#that one that's called Smooth Move or whatever. drink ONE CUP OF IT if you need to be saved

[sergle]

Got any tips to other people getting reductions that they haven't heard?

You gotta buy some of that tea that makes you shit your pants

[hederasgarden]

Like Oil and Water

Summary: Your office power struggle with Scott comes to a head. Paring: Scott (Twisters) x F!Scientist!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Enemies to lovers trope, PIV sex, fingering, and dirty talk. Slight angst.  A/N: The story is based on this ask I received. I know there are like…five Scott fans out there besides me so I hope y’all like this. I have no explanation for this fic except I’m horny for Scott. I had an alternative ending to this story but whoops feelings crept in. Thank you to @ryebecca, @whatblogisthis216 and @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over. The snazzy summary is courtesy of @writercole.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

David Corenswet Characters Masterlist

“I’m never picking up your coffee order again,” Javi swears, handing the Starbucks cup to you. “Whatever happened to coffee with a little bit of cream?”

“Capitalism,” you reply, taking a sip. It wasn’t exactly how you liked it, missing that deep caramel flavor, but you appreciate Javi’s effort. “Thanks again.”

He nods, drinking from his cup as you make your way down to the labs, discussing the results from the latest test. 

“We will need to adjust the relays, but other than that, I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “I’ll let the techs know we need those changes made this week.”

“Sounds good. I gotta make a quick call, but I’ll join you after,” Javi promises, disappearing into his office while you make your way down the hall.

You hear the low timber of Scott's voice before you spot him in conversation with one of the female techs. You loathe to admit it but he looks good, his tanned forearms on display with the sleeves of his white company shirt rolled up. The baseball cap tucked into his back pocket and dusty boots let you know he probably came straight from the field. 

"We need to fix the relays. They failed the test. Again. That's unacceptable," he begins, gearing up for another one of his infamous lectures. "Back when I was at MIT, this type of calibration was the first thing we were taught."

Scott may have been one of the smartest guys on Javi’s team but he was also a smug asshole. From the moment you met him, he irritated you, reminding you of every man who thought he was smarter and better than you just because of his gender. Everyone expected engineers to be difficult to work with, but Scott took it to another level. Who could blame you for taking him down a peg or two when you had the chance?

"So you went to MIT. Big whoop," you begin, delighted to see Scott tense up at the sound of your voice. When he turns to face you, the tech is quick to scurry away. "Call me when you have a PhD from a real school, like Caltech, Scotty."

He hates it when you call him that but today it's your jab about MIT that strikes a nerve. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he exhales harshly. God, that angry look in his eye really did something for you. Too bad his looks couldn’t make up for how much of a dick he could be. 

Scott practically spits your first name out, stepping into your space to loom over you. His broad shoulders and muscular build block your view of the lab. You tilt your head to look at him, fighting the urge to smile. "You really should address me as ‘doctor,’" you calmly remind him, tapping your name badge. 

You arch a brow, waiting for his response but his mouth snaps shut, attention moving to something behind you. 

It’s Javi.

"Come on guys," he sighs. "Play nice."

You glance over your shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I'm always nice.”

"Why are you even in the labs today?" Scott questions, glancing down at your heels. 

You smooth a hand down your dress and smile. "I'm the Vice President of R&D for Storm Par. These are my labs. I belong here.”

"Dressed like that?" He scoffs. 

"What, you don't like it?" You ask, turning in a slow circle. 

"We had a meeting with some new investors," Javi supplies, trying to cut off the start of another fight between the two of you. 

Scott turns away and you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. He still hasn’t forgiven you for talking Javi out of letting his uncle invest in the company. It would have been easy money but you never liked the business plan. It was best to stick with government grants and investors without any personal connections. 

Javi touches your arm. “Come on, we gotta finish that grant.”

You hum in agreement, trailing behind him to the doorway. Pausing, you glance back and catch Scott watching you, his lips pressed into a thin line. With a grin, you wiggle your fingers at him, amused to see the furrow in his brow deepen even further.

The rest of your day is blessedly Scott-free and you spend your time buried in meetings and wading through needlessly complicated grant submissions. Javi employed some of the smartest people you’ve ever had the privilege of working with but they were terrible when it came to making the science digestible to investors. You sigh, rubbing your temples. It was going to be a long night.

You work uninterrupted, buried in the complexities of the grant, until Scott storms into your office, slamming the door behind him. “Did you tell the techs they could go home early?” he demands.

“Please, do come in,” you deadpan, setting aside the papers you’re holding.

“Did you send them home?” He repeats, rounding your desk and invading your personal space. At his side, his hands are clenched into fists, the veins in his neck standing out.

“I did.” You rise to your full height but even in heels, he dwarfs you. 

“That wasn’t your call.”

“You do remember my job title, right?”

“I’m VP of Operations,” he reminds you. “I say when they go home, especially when we’re on a deadline.”

“They report to me, and you’ve had them working long hours,” you fire back.

He shakes his head, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, as he gives you an unimpressed look. “You’re too soft on them. I told Javi you weren’t right for this job. This isn’t academia. We work hard here.” 

You bristle at his words, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the soft skin of your palm. He has no idea what it took for you to get here, the challenges you faced, or the men like him you had to prove yourself to.

“Go fuck yourself, Scott.” 

You glare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. You wait, ready for whatever asshole comment is sure to come but he just stares at you. Then, to your surprise, his gaze drops to your mouth. You freeze, electricity zipping up your spine when you realize you’re close enough for your chest to brush his as you exhale. Looking back, you won't remember the impulse that led you to tilt your head and press your lips to his, only that you did.

The kiss only lasts a second before you pull away, heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, neither of you moves, but then suddenly he surges forward, his large hand grasping the side of your face. His lips crash into yours roughly. A hand at your hip urges you back until you bump your desk but he doesn’t stop until he’s practically dragged you on top of it. He presses in close, eating up what little space remains. You groan, grasping at his shirt as you push your hips into his. 

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his forehead against yours as his warm breath fans across your face. For one terrible second, you think he might stop or say something stupid to ruin the moment but then he’s kissing you again. He forces a hand between your bodies and roughly pulls your underwear aside so his fingers can drag through your folds. You’d be shocked by how fast it’s all happening but any higher thought fizzles out once his thumb circles your clit and his tongue breaks the seam of your lips to taste you. 

You’re breathless when he pulls away, back arching in response to his talented fingers. Through your lashes you see him smirk down at you. “No smart comebacks now?” He questions.

Before you can retort he adds a second finger. You moan, rolling your hips to seek more of him. “Knew you’d be fucking greedy,” he whispers.

He watches you fuck yourself on his hand with a hungry glint in his eyes until your pace slows. He glanced at your face. You rise up on your elbows, brow raised. “Am I going to do all the work here?” 

“Shut up,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers.

A witty comeback is on the tip of your tongue but it dies when Scott brings his fingers to his mouth. He stares down at you while he sucks them clean, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your stomach clenches hard at the sight. 

“That’s better,” he comments, unbuckling his belt. “Nice and quiet.” 

He takes a condom from his wallet and rolls it on his thick length. If there was ever a time to stop, it’s now. You look at Scott, his dark gaze swimming with desire and push the thought away, rising up to kiss him. The blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance and you lift your hips. You relish the way he looks, dark hair curling over his sweaty forehead and his body straining for you. Knowing you’ve done this to him sends a rush of want through you. 

Scott pushes inside slowly, hissing as your wet heat envelopes him until he’s halfway in and then he snaps his hips forward unexpectedly. Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush. He falls forward and the weight of him is electrifying. You’d be embarrassed at the desperate little sounds his mouth swallows up if he didn’t feel so damn good. 

He fucks with an intense kind of precision you’ve seen him bring to his work, reaching deep inside you to hit all the right places. You bury your fingers in his dark hair and pull, eliciting a needy moan from the irritatingly talented man above you. 

“You gonna come for me?” He asks, breathless. 

A desperate little, please, slips past your lips without your permission, spurring him on. He hooks a hand under your knee and forces your leg into your chest as he keeps up his frantic pace. The new angle takes him even deeper and pleasure ripples through your stomach. He feels unbelievably good and you practically sob when he pulls back and rises to his full height, afraid he’s going to stop. But he doesn’t, grasping your hips with both hands and forcing you to meet his thrusts. 

You’re tantalizing close and, without thinking, you reach down to help yourself along but Scott is quick to slap your hand away, replacing it with his own. 

“That’s mine,” he growls, the rough pad of his thumb catching on the sensitive skin. He watches with rapt attention as his cock and fingers work in tandem to drive you over the edge. You come with his name on your lips. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he gasps. 

Before you can recover your breath, he leans down and kisses you, his weight pressing you into the desk as his hips move relentlessly. Then he shoves himself deep inside and stills, groaning. Your ears ring and your body buzzes with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. The two of you stay like that, intertwined and panting until, finally, Scott moves. 

Cool air rushes between your bodies and you stare up at him. You can see him thinking in real time, his clever gaze searching your face as he continues to process what happened. What could either of you possibly say after this? Nothing good you realize. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.” 

Scott closes his eyes and swallows hard. Then he's moving, slipping out of you with a grunt. He turns away from you, redressing. The clink of his belt buckle is loud in the quiet office. Pressing your fingers to your swollen lips, you take a moment to let yourself feel everything before pushing it aside and standing on unsteady legs.

You fix your appearance the best you can and busy yourself with shuffling the mess of papers strewn everywhere. It might be cowardly, but you keep your gaze fixed on your desk when you hear the door creak open. You wait, the minutes dragging by until you know it’s safe to look up, only to find Scott still there.

He lingers in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you. 

Then you blink and he’s gone. 

♡

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[sevsdollette]

New Party, New Face

ellie x fem reader

you go to some boring party but the night ends pretty exciting for you and the friend you make. Though, is friend really the word for it?

contains: smut, weed, alcohol, oral (r receiving), strap-on (r-receiving)

MDNI and men get away

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party was in some dingy neighborhood you’d never been in before. To be honest, you only came along because your friends convinced you to have an adventure. Sure, you liked to party, but you expected it to be another awkward night with no real point.

Inside, you mainly hung out in the kitchen sipping on a beer and watching over your friend in the living room. You’d dressed up only to the extent of a slutty top and a short skirt. Your typical doc martins matched with everything anyway.

The kitchen had one yellowing light under the skin. It made the room mellow and calm. The party was no rager. Just twenty something people all drinking and running around screaming. Your friend had found a girl she liked somewhere during the night and was getting friendly on the couch. The stranger seemed nice enough. You let it slide.

Hours into the night, you saw someone new emerge from the basement with the stench of weed trailing behind her. She walked slowly into the kitchen with you and began rummaging in the pantry for something.

You stared at her back, watching how her white tank top moved with her muscles underneath. Her twang brown hair was tied back in a bun and you noticed how her tattoo curled over her skin. She was probably high out of her mind, but you wondered who she was.

It was taking her a rather long time to find what she wanted to eat.

“You know,” you said, “Usually a person knows where the snacks in their own pantry are.”

She smirked, looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I’m overstaying my welcome. But, hell, I’m hungry.”

You smiled, putting your beer can down on the counter and walking over to stand beside her. “Whatcha hungry for,” you teased, looking over into her eyes as she focused her gaze forward.

Her hands gripped the edge of the pantry door and she chuckled. “Why, you got something you can give me?”

Somehow after that, you ended up following her to the basement. It was a small, chilly room with a single couch and tv stand. On the ground by the couch was her stash and a small backpack. You felt high just from the lingering second hand smoke.

She guided you to the couch and sat down so close your thighs were touching. You looked up at her smooth freckled nose and let your fingers curve over her knee. She was too busy lighting up and taking a hit to notice your staring.

“What’s your name?”

She nodded, exhaling. “Ellie. Yours?”

You watched the smoke curl and drift away before following its path back to her lips. “Whatever you want to call me.”

Ellie laughed and handed you the blunt. She bit her lip and stared as you took a long drag. The longer you held your breath the more her gaze focused on the curve of your lips.

She was sold the moment you exhaled. Her hand reached to take the blunt from your fingers and set it back down. She kept herself close, interlacing her fingers with yours as her other hand cupped your cheek. She let you fall forward into the kiss, shuddering as your fingers grabbed at the fabric of her tank top.

You sighed against her lips as she wrapped both arms around your hips and pulled you into her lap. Your legs hung over the arm of the couch as you cradled her face in your hands and kissed her deeper. Your tongue slid past the barrier of her lips and she moaned, nails digging into the waist and of your skirt.

The whole party seemed like a distant blur far away. As she dragged her hand over the curved of your tight to dip under your skirt, you swore the two of you were the only people in the world. Your fingers smoothed over her hair and she pulled your hips down to grind your cunt into hers.

You whined with gritted teeth, feeling a growing wetness in your panties as she continued the motion. Her own eyes rolled as she faltered in her kiss. She but your lip and tugged, letting the front of your skirt slide up so she could feel the lace of your underwear.

“Ellie,” you muttered. There was nothing else to say. Her name was your silent plea to go further. To hell with what you thought would happen tonight. You’d do anything to stay in this basement with her.

She hummed in agreement, trailing her lips down your cheek and onto your neck. She kissed and sucked at your sensitive skin, letting her teeth roll the bruising skin. You felt chills snake through your body. You swore she could feel your clit throbbing against her cunt with how desperate you were.

Her hands took their own accord, leading themselves under your tight shirt to grope your breast. They pressed into your nipples through your bra. With firm, slowly motions, she continued to feel you up.

Your head fell back and you moaned. Her constant attack on your neck and the teasing of your nipples was making you desperate. You had a pool dripping from your cunt that you needed her to take care of.

“What,” you breathed, “Are you gonna make me beg for it or something?”

Her lips pulled away from sucking below your jaw. She stared up at you, mouth slightly open with baiting breath. With the round, desperation in her eyes, it was almost her begging you to say please.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.”

You ran your thumb over her bottom lip, locking your eyes onto hers. Half-lidded, pupils dilated, you pouted. “Please, Ellie, please. I need you.”

She hummed, dipping her fingers under the wire of your bra. She felt your your nipples pebbled under her overzealous touch. “Need me to do what, princess?”

You leaned so close that you shared her breath. “I need you to eat me, Ellie.”

It was like you’d flicked a switch in her brain. Without hesitation, she flipped you so you were lying down and she was hovering over you. Her hands slid from your ribs to over your hip bones and down to your knees.

She spread your legs. You caught the moment her eyes set on the wet spot of your panties. You saw how her vision tunneled on your cunt.

“Oh baby,” she whispered. She tucked a stray strand of hair back and curled her fingers around the tops of your underwear. She had nothing else to say—nothing else to do but take your clothes off and fuck you.

You pressed your head into the pillow it rested on, taking in every detail of how she pulled your panties down your legs. You nearly cried when she stopped touching you to discard them somewhere. Your core as throbbing, your clit peaking through your folds for her.

She took no extra time getting down to her elbows and flipping your skirt up to rest on your stomach. Her mouth hovered over your cunt so you could feel her heaving breaths teasing you. It was cruel and you squirmed, urging her to start.

“So excited. Such a good girl,” she praised. Her voice was thick and enraptured. Like she wasn’t in control of stopping her thoughts. She let your thighs rest on your shoulders as she teased you with the tip of her tongue.

She slid it shallowly into your folds. The sensation made you whine and grab her head to push her further. She resisted but soon gave you what you want. She spread you further and let her flat tongue drag up your cunt and taste your slick. She flicked over your bud and had you crying out for her.

You moaned and gripped her hair as she latched her lips onto your clit. Every nerve bundled into your cunt was stimulated and you couldn’t stand how it made you feel. You watched her calm, steady head moved between your legs.

Her light eyes flickered up to meet your stare and that had you keening over again. She looked back with no shame, eating you like the meal she was starving for.

“God—fuck,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

You stifled a whine as she dragged a finger from your knee to your inner thigh. Continuing her work on your clit, she let you become distracted with how her hand moved from your leg to your cunt. She let her middle finger tease the eye of your hole.

You jerked your hips to get her to fuck you. She obliged, letting two fingers slip inside your entrance. She explored you, curling those fingers deeper as she sucked and rolled her tongue over your clit.

The combination had you seeing star. You were close to climax as she kept a steady, generous pace inside your cunt and feasted on your pulsing bud.

Your reactions, gaining in extravagance, let her know how close you were. She felt her own pussy throb as you begged her not to stop. She needed all of you and more. Your sopping cunt had her fingers squelching as she fucked into you, curing the pads of her fingertips every time to hit that spongy sweet spot.

You were cumming, your head tipping over the arm of the couch with your eyes squeeze shut. The pleasure blossomed from your core and spread throughout your body. Ellie helped you through, controlling her pace as much as she wanted to overstimulate you to tears.

Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. Ellie lifted from in between your legs and licked her lips, staring down at your swelling breasts and blushed complexion.

She rubbed your leg and smacked your ass lightly. “Flip over.”

You knew better than to disobey. Your arms were shaky and weak but you flipped to lay on your stomach, pressing your knees into the couch.

Ellie stood up and walked over to her backpack. As she unzipped the pocket, you knew exactly what she was getting. Just the thought made you drip again. Your cunt was still throbbing and tense from your last orgasm, but she had her strap on faster than you could recover.

The other side of the couch dipped with her weight and she grabbed you hips. She lifted the back of your skirt and felt the meat of your ass. “You listen so well,” she said in erotic awe. “Now take all of me, baby.”

The tip of her cock slid through your folds. As she wet herself with your slick, she shamelessly bumped your clit just to watch you tense.

Just as you were about to start begging again, her too pressed into your entrance, taking every inch of your dignity as she possessed you. The thick veins of her shaft rubbed every surface inside of you and your arms gave out under you. You moaned into the pillow as you took her in. With every second of her sliding in, you wondered how much bigger she could be. You felt split in half and she was hardly moving.

She finally slowed to a stop inside of you. Her thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hips and she hummed. “You okay, sweetheart?”

All you could was nod. You swallowed and shut your eyes, prepping yourself for when she’d start moving.

She was gentle. She fucked into you with slow, easing motions that had you moaning into the couch but also wanting more. Your head was spinning and she couldn’t stop grabbing your ass. Every thrust had you whimpering.

You’d forgotten about the party upstairs, not even worrying if someone coil come downstairs and find you two. Even if they did, that wouldn’t stop you.

Ellie leaned over you, humping you and pinching your nipples. Her heavy breaths in your ear sent another wave of need to your clit and you indulged. As she kept her dick deep inside, fucking you harder, she let you reach down and circle your clit.

“Need some help, doll,” she moaned in your ear. One of her hands left your chest to curl over your fingers. Together, your fingers rubbed and stimulated your needy bud. She guided you, finding a hard and faster pace and help you finish. She needed you to finish. It would make her cum just to have you moaning under her again.

Mere moments of her hand over yours, rubbing your bud, and her dick deep inside of you had you cumming. The pleasure had you stammering to find the curses to scream. Your head was a rolling vision of white-hot pleasure. Your screams were muffled into the pillow as you felt Ellie reach her own climax and fall on top of you.

She carefully pulled out, soothing you as you cried weakly from the overstimulation. “Easy, you’re alright,” she cooed.

Her strap went somewhere you didn’t know and she helped you roll over. You had almost forgot how pretty she was. Her soft feature and blissed out gaze made you smile deeply and pull her in for a final kiss. She melted into you and let herself fall into you.

She pulled away and pursed her lips. “Want to smoke?”

note: whoa was not expecting to write this tonight but it’s 2 a.m. and i’m listening to brat for the first time. never took myself for a charlie xcx fan but she’s slaying. sorry not sorry if you’re not into tlou, but you should be. ellie is my everything and i need her.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Habits 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Andy Barber, Cole Turner (Professor AU)

Summary: your life is thrown into chaos after a night out goes awry.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The room is electric, colours glare and glimmer, music thrums, bodies writhe. You ride the wave of the rhythm, balancing your cup in one hand as you wave the other above you. You giggle and smile at Mercedes. It’s starting to hit, whatever it is she gave you. 

Your eyes roll back as your head dips and you sway to the pulsing beat. You gyrate and hum beneath the wall of sound all around you. You spin and gulp back the last of your mixed vodka. You flick your lashes up and search for somewhere to leave the empty. 

Mercedes is gone. Hm, she’s probably just off the restroom or the bar. Hopefully she brings back more. You find a table and slam the empty cup on it. You shimmy around as a cute guy presses past you. Hey, you know him. 

“Colin,” you slur, catching his hands as they creep up your hips. 

“Hey baby,” he speaks over the music as he leans in, “you’re looking loose. Like the music?” 

“Sure, I like the music,” you put your palms to his chest, “but I can’t stand you.” 

You stick your tongue out and shove him away. He’s such a slimy fuck. He huffs and drops his grip. That’s it. The shift. One minute, the smarmy smirk and the next, that evil fucking glare. 

“See ya. Try not to traumatize anyone, bud,” you slap his arm and carry on past him. 

“Slut,” he calls after you. 

He says so but you never lowered yourself to his level. Or under him. 

You stand on your toes, searching the crowd for Mercedes’ spiral curls. It should be easy enough to find her. She has those fuzzy pom poms pinned into her hair.  

You mutter to yourself and check your phone. Your balance isn’t exactly comforting but you have enough for another drink. Fuck it. You’re getting blitzed. 

You get to the bar and lean on it as you wave at the bartender. You nearly slip as you put your foot on the metal rod that trims the bottom of the bar and you cling to the edge. You smile and correct yourself. 

“Vodka soda,” you call above the hue. 

He squints at you and shakes his head, “no way. You had enough, sweetheart.” 

“What? I’m fffinnneee,” you whine. 

“Step away from my bar or I’ll call the bouncer,” he warns. 

“Damn, geez,” you put your palms up defensively, “fine. Don’t have to be nasty.” 

You spin and your legs tangle. You stumble and collide with someone else. You catch yourself against them. Oh, gosh. You can feel their muscle through their shirt. Mmf. 

You follow the body up to short stubble and recoil. Bit older than you expected. As much as you admire an older man, you didn’t come here to hook-up. You learned your lesson last time. 

“Excuse me,” he touches your hip lightly then rescinds his hand, almost shyly. 

“S-sssorry,” you laugh, “I’m a bit tipsy.” 

“Can’t be mad at a pretty girl running into me,” he grins and you notice his throat bob. That’s cute. He’s nervous. Kinda makes sense since he’s a bit out of place with the coed crowd.  

You keep your smile on, “that’s sweet.” 

You try to move past him but he sidles in the same direction. You end up bumping into each other again. He raises his hands helplessly. 

“Ah, sorry, I keep--” he gets in your way again. “Keep running into you. Maybe it’s a sign I should buy you a drink.” 

It’s almost smooth. Almost. He’s trying. It’s kind of endearing. And you won’t complain for a top-up, especially on his dime. 

“Sure, can I have a vodka soda,” you push your shoulders up and bat your lashes, “I’ll, er, go wait over there.” 

You peek behind you. The bartender is thoroughly distracted. The man peers back then at you again. 

“Sure. I’ll grab us drinks.” 

Your eyelids sag and you shimmy your shoulders, “you’re a real sweetie.” 

You flit off through the crowd and go to wait at the small corner table. You bop and keep your eye out for Mercedes. Come on. If she ditched you for another guy... 

The man approaches you, balancing the drinks with a wary look to those dancing around him. He breaks free of the crush and swiftly sets down the glasses. He shakes the excess of his fingertips and wipes a hand on his jeans. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Cole,” he introduces himself with a handshake. That’s adorable. 

“Coral,” you say back. “Thank you soooooo much.” 

You take the vodka soda and slurp through the straw. Oof. It’s stronger than you expect. Or maybe you really have had enough. 

“Are you a student?” He asks. 

You dribble a bit over your lower lib and dab it with your knuckles. You swallow a belch and nod, “oh yeah. I’m in Communications. Fun times.” 

“Fun?” He echoes. 

“Sure, it’s all nonsense. I just need a degree to get me in the door but it’s nothing special,” you shake your head. “I’m gonna be a PR specialist. I wanna work for fashion brands.” 

“Fashion,” he nods as his eyes fixate on you, “you enjoy it?” 

“Yeah, if I could sew I might try design but I can’t draw either,” you garble and pause as your tongue sticks. Oof, are you even speaking clearly right now?

“That’s cool. Driven young lady,” his eyes drift down and you suddenly feel exposed. “Pretty too.” 

“Ah ha, yeah,” you blink and shake your head. Ooh, okay, the pill is really kicking you in the teeth right now. “Can you excuse me? I’m not... I gotta... pee!” 

You scramble away as your head spins and your limbs turn to sand. You can hardly push through the invisible waves holding you back. You search for the bathrooms and finally see the sign. You run into another girl coming out and quickly dip behind the door. 

You barely stagger into the stall as your vision begins to speckle. Something’s not right. What the hell, Mercedes? You might be careless for taking the pill but she also didn’t warn you it was that potent. You sit on the toilet and lean forward to cradle your head. You don’t sit back up as the darkness beckons you down and down. 

[aritsukemo]

Sick Days Chronicle | Pinky Promise | Shinobu Kocho

Summary: Sick days are the worst, but at least you get the pleasure of having your partner take time out of their otherwise busy schedule to take care of you! <3

Warnings: Nothing serious. Shinobu refers to you as 'dear' more than a few times. Also horrible and probably inaccurate medical descriptions ahead!

A/N: My first day at my first job was great despite me making so many mistakes! 😅 While I get used to my new schedule, please take this continuation of my sick day chronicles that I was finally able to finish!

Day One: Yuichiro Tokito | Day Two: Shinobu Kocho | Day Three: Muichiro Tokito | Day Four: Tanjiro Kamado | Day Five: Aoi Kanzaki

"Take this twice a day for the next week and you'll feel much better," Shinobu, your doctor—who you were lucky enough to also call your girlfriend—instructed. Her gentle voice echoing in your head as you slowly digested and picked apart every little word that left her pink, glossed lips because who knows when the next time any words from her will be directed specifically at you.

You watch her every little movement. From the way she backs away to the way her polished hands kick up her butterfly-patterned haori just a little so that when she sits back on the stool, she doesn't sit on it to the way she involuntarily tugs at it, straightening it out as her hands slowly slide down the varying colors until they reach her thighs and the way she lays her hands diagonally on each thigh. You take note of how perfectly positioned they are and how they aren't slanted inwards to the point that it'd look uncomfortable, but aren't slanted too outwards to where it'd look like they're falling off the sides of her thighs.

As always, Shinobu has even the small things like how she sits perfected—or maybe you were just imagining it so that you'd have an excuse to suck in every little thing about her appearance. Maybe that's proof of just how starved you were of her..

And maybe, this is more proof of it, "Can you help me out?" You lift the cup just a little for emphasis on what you meant, being careful of the leaf-colored liquid sloshing around inside the cup.

She blinks and you can tell she's caught off guard by your question by the way her lips making a small 'o' before she quickly recovers and asks, "Of course, but may I ask why you couldn't yourself?"

"My arms feel weak," You threw out as she stood to her feet again, the two strands that frame her face swaying as she does so. She steps closer and leans in. Her cool, smooth hands encasing yours for a moment before they swiftly move to the cup and retreat with it. She then moved the cup to your lips and ever so slowly tilted it just as you tilted your head back a little.

"Is that so? They weren't bothering you before now. I hope this isn't the case, but are you coming down with more symptoms?" She asks, her tone honey sweet, but dipped in just enough sour worry that it makes the question come off less like a neutral fret or more like warm concern.

She waits patiently as she always does with everything and watches as you slowly drink down the bitter medicine. Being mindful to keep it at a low slant so that you can take in comfortable amounts at a time. It's only when you finish that she hastily rips the cup away from your lips.

"No other symptoms, just feel a little weak.." You reassure. It wasn't entirely false. Whatever you caught has made you feel more tired than usual whenever you did something. That exhaustion just wasn't very prominent in your arms, but she didn't need to know that.

You watch her tilt her head to the side. Not much, but enough for her self-made bangs to tilt—the one on the right bending just a tad when it meets her chin.

"Hm, it may just be fatigue, but I'll keep it in mind regardless. Let me now immediately if the feeling worsens, alright?" And then your heart tightens when you hear the slight fuzzy noise of her socks sliding against the smooth flooring—a small, but clear indication that she's about to turn around. An even clearer indication that she's about to leave.

"In case it is just fatigue, I think you should rest—" "Wait!" She pauses, half of her body turned towards the door including her head. That said, at your rather desperate call, she immediately turns, allowing you to catch the sight of her slim, pointy eyelashes falling from initially being raised up from surprise for the second time today.

"What's wrong? Do you feel any pain? Sudden dizziness?" She asks. Her tone strangled with sudden urgency that you've only heard a few times in the past. It reminds you of those small times of peace you two would share and that suffocating feeling of undeserved annoyance that would cage your heart whenever Aoi or one of the triplets would run in shouting about a patient in dire need of her attention. It also reminds of that empty feeling that would occur afterwards when that irritation dissipates as you watch Shinobu immediately leave your side while using that same semi-stern tone drenched all over the questions she shot out in hurry as she tries to access the severity of the situation.

It reminds you of her position. Of her title as the best medically-specialized demon slayer in all of the Demon Slayer Corps. A painful reminder that follows the realization of how important her time is to everyone and how you just wasted it by spewing lies for the sake of spending even a few more seconds of time with her.

In the end, you sigh at the realization that's finally plagued your mind; you were being very immature right now—something you know Shinobu despises with all her being and would certainly scold you or worse for if she found out the truth.

"Nevermind, it's nothing," You say, your tone sounding more defeated than you would've liked it to.

"Go on," One of your supposedly weak arm raises without trouble, your hand flicking up as you wave her off, "I'm sure you have many patients who need your attention.."

"Dear," You freeze. Your throat seems to as well because the air inside of it catches, unable to escape it's gummy confines. It causes your face to tingle, or at least, that's what you'd like to think. It's too embarrassing to admit that your face is growing warm because she referred to you by a common pet name—that she refers to everyone in—in a softer tone of voice..

She calls you again, "Dear," and you feel her cool touch all over as she cups her smooth hands over your rough ones. You hesitate, still deciding whether to pull away or stay and revel in her touch when she decides for you by tightening her grip—not having the strength enough to hurt you, but her grip is still firm, preventing you from easily pulling away. Not that the thought even crossed your mind to begin with.

"Are you alright?" She asks, "While I do believe part of it has to do with you falling under the weather, I've noticed you've been acting odd. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Gods, the way she's looking at you right now. Like a mermaid witnessing humans for the first time as they dance under the moonlight together. Like a goddess walking hand in hand along the heavans and looking up at their beloved Aphrodite herself. Her look was one so genuine and delicate that something as small as a frown from you could tranquish it; a scarce, fleeting expression that's completely foreign in comparison to the usual masks she tends to wear.

..And she's willing to let a shameless liar like yourself see it. Not one of the other Hashira, not Aoi or the triplets, not even Kanao. It was an expression made only for you. It was proof that even with so little time spent with each other, her love for you remains unwavering.

And here you were, lying to such a face because of such a silly reason..

"I.. I'm..alright," You tell her, your eyes darting to look everywhere but her face, "..My arm is too.." You sigh. Are you really doing this?

"I..lied to you when I said my arms were hurting.." Your eyes scrunch and close, waiting for the inevitable scolding or harsh words that you may, understandably, receive for wasting her time, but it never comes. Instead, you hear a light hum from her before she answers you as calm as ever, "Well, I obviously knew that."

Your eyes shoot open, the shock giving you the courage to look at her face at last, "Huh?" Again, one would think she would follow up with at least a light scolding, but it seems the time apart has caused you to forget just who Shinobu Kocho is; a woman who, even when fuming to the point steam comes out of her ears, would never take it out on someone—especially not a patient.

"It was obvious that you were lying. The type of muscle fatigue you describe tends to show itself in the early stages of an illness," She explains, "Plus, your body and face gave you away whenever you slightly moved your arms. Just now too. When you moved them, you showed zero struggle or signs of discomfort."

"I- I see.." Time really does make the mind grow weary for you to think that you could fool her, especially about something in her field of expertise. Even so, you can't find yourself saying that you'd never pull something like this again if a situation like this one ever called for it. That said, you end up changing the sentence that formed in your hand immeidately after it formed in your head, saying something entire different instead..

"I'm sorry for trying to trick you," Your eyes trail down to your hands which were still safely encased in hers—a grip feeling akin to icebergs, and yet, you don't pull away. Not when a touch like this one comes as often as a demon who's repulsed by human flesh.

"I'm not mad, I simply want to know your reason for lying in the first place." She further reassures.

"I.." Your tongue stills in your mouth, embarrassment creeping up your skin in the form of your blood again as it burns your cheeks and causes them to tingle and—although you're praying it wasn't noticeable—change colors.

"I just wanted to spend time with you..that's all.." You couldn't look up at her at first, but maybe you should've because it would've probably explained the expression you're seeing now; pink lips twisted up just enough to be noticed, but not enough for it to seem like her usual grins. Her eyebrows had fallen, making her eyes seem as soft as the furry creatures she despises so much. And what takes the cake is the cherry blossom blush painting her expression. Blush. She's blushing. You've never seen her blush before, but gods do you wish that you had sooner! She looks nothing short of ethereal. Like an oil painting..or a white dove spirit.

"Dear.." She calls in a hushed tone, the sudden raspiness overcoming that petname—that has quickly become your favorite word to hear her refer to you as—before a small, courteous laughter is breathed out from her lips and she shakes her head, taking note of her dual-colored bangs swaying side-to-side once again.

Then suddenly, she pulls her hands away from yours, releasing you from the spell she had casted on you. It saddened you. If you had the choice, you'd stay hypnotized by her sugary words, her honey-syrup laughter, and be enveloped by her icicle fingers for all of eternity..

"Whether you believe me or not, I also missed you greatly but I've been so busy that even my free time is spent in the presence of everyone in need of my help.." She holds out her hand to you again, but this time, just her dainty pinky finger sticks out as she says, "So, how about this; when you get better, come find me and we can go somewhere far away or hide away somewhere here for a little while. Just the two of us. Pinky Promise."

Your eyes linger on her pinky, eyes widening for nth time today. For someone known for her maturity, this was..surprisingly childish of her to do. At the same time, the scene before you felt so right. Like watching a queen put on her crown that was stolen from her or watching a demon slayer move to the next step of their training after spending months practicing..

And so, without a sense of regret or shame or embarrassment, you brought your hand up, stuck out your pinky, and allowed her to wrap her smaller, slimmer, one around yours—smiling as you return the favor and curl your pinky around hers.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLADE | ERIC BROOKS (1990 trilogy)

—

“Argent” (Blade | Eric Brooks x Fem!Reader)

| Eric sets up a meeting between him and one of the only vampires he’s ever trusted. Truly trusted. It’s less about business and more about pleasure however.

| NSFW, 18+, minors dni, canon typical action & violence mentioned, blood drinking, oral sex, blowjob (male receiving), cunnilingus (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), (TW: Eric drugs the Reader-Insert to kidnap her; she doesn’t mind and he gives her the antidote immediately, but yeah) mild-ish rough sex, pain play, blood play

| Pic Source: Blade (1998) - ignore the context of the last photo, okay, the pictures were too perfect to pass up

| Happy 4 days till Halloween!!!🩸

| 5k+ words

Your sight has still yet to clear and your veins are still on fire from failing to run away and being hit by a dart.

Liquidized Silver.

You take a second to feel the way your veins burn, and yeah, it was definitely still in you.

Who did you piss off now?

You groan, head swiveling without purpose on your neck, and crack open your eyes. Just as you’ve blinked the black from the corner of your vision you feel someone else appear in your presence.

Or maybe they’ve been around you this whole time and you’ve just been too out of it to pick up their heartbeat or scent.

You suck in and then let out a rush of air you don’t need.

“Fucker,” you curse, frown twisting at your lips.

An unnaturally smooth palm cups your cheek and then drifts to the back of your head, propping you up as another hand pries your lips open. You’re held tightly against someone’s buff form as a wrist, bleeding fresh, is held against your mouth.

You moan without preamble, fangs dropping, and plunge eagerly into his offering. You’ve been poisoned, nothing was going to neutralize the shit swimming in you like pure blood was.

There’s an answering groan behind you and you can’t help but savor the taste even more. Human blood was delectable, but daywalker blood was an out of body experience. You whimper as he pulls his wrist from your fangs sooner than you’d like but then rush to lap up the remaining blood around the closing wound.

Once the dark wrist in front of you is cleared of every bit of liquid red you sigh out.

"You could just call, you know…?" you mutter against his skin before he moves his hand.

There’s an answering grunt behind you and then you’re spun around. It’s Blade’s smug face that greets you, devoid of his shades for once, and you roll your eyes.

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I didn’t answer…” you screw your face up at him. “Motherfucker, did you bother calling more than once?”

He grins at you.

“By that reasoning I should’ve tracked you down the second I saw your black ass plastered all over the news after you declined my calls.”

“Phone got blown up. And why didn’t you? Could’ve used the help,” he side eyes the door to whatever bedroom he’s got you in, “and someone I can actually stand.”

You laugh, “So the rumors about you hanging with a new crew are true?”

He reaches for you and when you accept his advance he circles his arms around your waist.

He scoffs, nostrils flaring, and stares you down. “Mostly out of necessity.”

“Mmm,” your fingers drum over his chest. Only a thin black shirt keeps you from his skin. “I was dealing with my own shit show so I couldn’t have helped anyway.”

You give him a tight lipped smile. Your hands press over where his heart miraculously beats.

“I’m sorry about Whistler, by the way.”

Blade goes morose for a second, stilling while he takes in your words with a vague nod. The only steadying sound left is the pat pat of his supernatural heart. It’s nice to be near one that operates so well, that won’t accelerate in fear around you.

In the next beat his lips purse and he glances away from you.

“You didn’t come here to talk about my life did you?”

You frown.

“You kidnapped me, actually, but message received. I won’t bring him up again.”

Those amber eyes pin you in place for another mini eternity before he thanks you. The mirth trickles back into his expression then, and you relax.

He chuckles when you wrap your hands around his shoulders.

“So then. I’ve been staying out of trouble, Daywalker. Do I get a cookie?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. One corner of his mouth twitches upward. “Here’s your fucking cookie.”

He slams his lips onto yours, just about kissing you dead a second time with how long he takes before separating for air. You take a second to regain yourself, forehead pressed against his as his soft breaths puff against your mouth. Despite his pants he grins, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth while you piece your thoughts back together.

You clear your throat.

"I heard about Dracula’s little cult too by the way, but if you brought me here to interrogate me about it you’ve wasted your time.”

Blade doesn’t answer right away. Instead his lips trail across your jaw and down your neck, coarse facial hair tickling your skin. One of his hands runs up your body and the other ghosts across the side of your neck.

"The true Dracula’s business doesn’t have shit to do with this. I was just…craving your company,” he says, biting the delicate skin over your jugular.

You gasp at the sudden sharp movement but arch against him at the familiar prick of his bat-like incisors making a sizable mark on you. He kneads your skin gently with them, but doesn’t pierce the skin for any blood.

"Let me take you...." he whispers, leaning back and ripping one of his gloves off.

Your throat grows tight as his fingertips run down your cheek, the stolen blood in your body singing across the dark skin that he touches.

"You screamed so loud for me last time… . Let me get you like that again."

With inhuman speed, he pushes your back against the wall, one of his legs wedging between your own. The hands on your hips pull you further onto his muscled thigh and he begins to rub you up and down on it.

A mewl slips past your lips at the sudden movement, feet fighting for purchase on the floor and hands resting on his shoulders for balance. Before long your mewls are replaced by breathy moans and you can’t help jerking and pushing down against Blade’s thigh, hands clawing desperately at his shirt.

You bite back a groan of annoyance, but a growl escapes in its absence and you rip his shirt apart in seconds. A small growl emits from his lips and Blade nabs your wrists, yanking your hands from his chest. He gives you a sideways look.

“Really?”

You lean your upper body forward with a shrug. It’s a little hard to do with the way he’s restraining you but you make it work.

“You're not the only one craving something, Daywalker. Now are you gonna make me cum or not?”

He grins, a mean flash of white against his umber skin before letting you go.

"Fine. I'll give you what you want."

You don’t have time to do anything with your newly renewed mobility because in the next second he’s back on you. Lips meet yours for one more enveloping kiss before he leans away. His deft fingers trail over your mouth and he hums as his eyes shine with a dark sort of mirth.

"How about you put that mouth to better use."

His voice is rough as his index and middle fingers slide into your mouth, his other hand squeezing your ass. You glare, eyes gaining their yellow vampiric appearance, but ultimately don’t complain. Instead you look him dead in the face and slowly swirl your tongue around his digits then suck on them gently. A smirk pulls at the corner of your mouth when the mirth fades from his eyes, replaced by a hungrier expression.

"Floor," He orders, regarding you with a steely gaze as his fingers slide out of your mouth. His hands drop to his sides.

Cocky smile in full place, you slide down the wall to your knees. Placing you at eye level with the prominent bulge in his leather pants.

His eyes, now alight with lust, never leave your own and he quickly unhooks his belt and fly before dropping his hands for you to do the rest.

Blade hisses as you pull his pants down, his curved dick immediately jumping out at you, and you chuckle before wrapping fingers only marginally warmed by stolen blood around his shaft.

“Mmm, someone’s eager,” you tease.

Quick as very few things in your world were, his hand flashes forward. One of his now bare hands cups your jaw, allowing you a moment to nuzzle into it, before his free hand grasps the back of your head to urge you forward.

The way his grip shifts, loosening and tightening in a few steady increments, tells you just how much he’s struggling to keep himself under control. It’s a heady power to hold.

After all, he could never keep his monstrous tendencies under as much tight control when he was around you.

Eric looks down at you and scoffs. His amber gaze flares when he taps at the top of your head and a smirk, pushing against well worn frown lines, ticks up one corner of his mouth.

“I’m not the one on my knees.”

A part of you wants to shiver. The other knows you’re too undead for such poultry shit, but is tempted to pantomime the reaction anyway.

It doesn’t take long for you to make yourself tremble for him; your monster cowering in the face of his mounting one. Like you were some brown skinned starlet in a flowing white dress; distressed but still with your teeth barred in the face of the big bad wolf.

There wasn’t anything safe as that here though, just the cut of the daywalker’s grin and the slow baritone build up of a growl in the back of his throat.

Yet, his human side was still as dangerous as his vampire, you muse, kitten licking the head of his dick with your cool tongue.

Comparatively, Eric’s entire body is miraculously warm and the way his dick twitches and pulses over your mouth is nearly intoxicating.

Eric grunts, his hand tangling into your hair as he watches you. With a low hum you place sloppy kisses down his shaft, cupping his balls as you lick a hard line across the veins on the underside of his dick. He groans when your tongue swirls over his precum slick glans.

When he tries urging you forward, head pressed to your two-toned lips, you pull off entirely.

Keeping your grin from breaking free is a herculean effort.

Jaw ticking, Eric looks down at you like he’s about to fall. Face open in its desperation and thick lips already bitten ruddy.

"Goddamnit, stop playing games with me, Slick..." he says, voice strained. His hand tightens in your hair and your lashes flutter as you allow yourself another shudder.

Grin finally breaking free, you smile shamelessly up at Eric and wait until he kisses his teeth in irritation to move.

Eyes glinting, you meet his eyes and then take him in fast and deep. The sound of the slide of his back teeth cuts off short with his muffled shout.

His dick twitches in your mouth, heavy and solid on your tongue, an unignorable presence at the back of your throat, and he lets out a filthy sounding moan.

The very sound makes you want to please him more; do something better than just eagerly moving your mouth up and down his shaft. So bobbing your head, you pull back to twirl your tongue around his head before taking him deep again, playing around with the speed and depth of how deep you take him in turn.

After a few minutes his composure has nearly all but been forgotten. One hand remaining tightly wrapped in your coils while he uses the other alternatively for support against the wall and an emergency muffler. His sweat glossed body shuddering in pleasure, growl grumbling in his throat, and the occasional deep curse turned you on more than anything.

Hand gliding over your head until he can cup the side of your ear, he tugs sharply at the pointed tip of it to make you look back up at him. Your stare is only a little cross.

"Hold still." He murmurs, smoothing the pad of one of his fingers over where he’d tugged.

Nodding, you do as ordered and he cups the back of your head again before slowly beginning to thrust into your mouth. His hips snap forward hard and deep and you have to fight to keep your throat from reflexively shutting.

It doesn’t take long for him to speed up, but he only allows it for a moment before pausing and pulling back to guide your mouth over his dick. He coats your plush lips with his pre, the drag slick.

"Fuck, you’re good,” he mutters, eyes intent on his ministrations.

You can’t help but to growl at the prospect of being guided and at his praise.

Eric chuckles.

It’s then, that low pleased croon falling over you, that your own self-control wanes. Your hand wanders between your soft thighs, needing to touch yourself at seeing him so undone. Hating that you loved the idea of him using you for his own pleasure in that moment so much, but helpless against the euphoria of it.

With a jerk, Eric’s dick leaves your mouth entirely and his hand yanks back sharply at the roots of your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I don’t remember saying you could touch yourself," he warns, eyes bright but hold unrelenting.

You stare up at him with wide eyes for a long moment, dead air still as usual in your chest, then slowly nod your head.

“…correct.”

A light tug.

"So?"

Blinking, your brows furrow briefly before, with a start, you cut your eyes up at him. "So I have to wait for permission to masturbate? That’s how we’re doing this?"

He chuckles, eyeing you just as narrowly with a smirk. "Uh huh,” he grunts, voice as soft as it gets. “Exactly that.”

Finally he starts to move his dick again, dragging it across your cheek and teasing it across your lips. You’re still giving him a sour look though and you watch his teeth grind before he reiterates himself.

"Fine, I’ll be clearer. I haven’t given you permission to touch shit, act like it.”

"Alright,” you mutter, leaning back into his hold. “I got you, E, I’ll behave."

Quickly, you look up at him after the “nickname” slips off your tongue. Eric was picky about that shit, and really the only person you’ve ever seen him not correct or kill for calling him anything other than Eric (or especially Blade) was Whistler.

Eric only hums and loosens his grip on your hair though, scratching carefully over your scalp as you eye him.

No biting comment. Not even a warning look. He doesn’t seem to have caught the abbreviation at all.

Well.

You can’t imagine why he let you calling him outside his name slide, but you weren’t going to speak on it if he isn’t.

With a soft exhale you let your eyelids fall to half mast and nod for him; reconfirming. If he wanted you docile you could play at it for a bit, for him.

“I would’ve let your ass cum earlier if you weren’t so damn impatient,” he reminds you, never one to let you forget you’ve got a wound and he’s got plenty of salt.

You really ought to just deck him in the face, you muse as he strokes himself. There was just truly no way a day could go by without his ass doing far too much.

“Don’t push it,” you mutter.

Eric scoffs, having heard you crystal clear despite your distance and low pitch, and brings his hand down to cup your cheek.

For a few seconds he stays silent, just brushing the soft unblemished pad of his thumb over your brown skin, before his grip grows firm enough to keep your head in place. His hold doesn’t hurt, but it stays a steady reminder that he’s in charge right now and you don’t fight against that, letting him push his dick past your lips and begin thrusting slow and deep once more.

"Mmm, I'll let you cum eventually. All you have to do is listen."

With a noise of confirmation, you start bobbing your head, meeting his thrusts with each pass.

Eric groans low, thrusts deeply, and holds his dick there. The way his chest heaves registers as cute to you, so very human; seemingly too delicate for such a dangerous killer.

"Hn— fuck yes,” he rumbles.

You hum low in your throat, an idea popping into your mind when his hips snap forward on reflex and his pelvis rubs your inner lip against the area above your teeth where your fangs retreat. The pressure threatens to make them drop without your say so.

Silent, you grasp his shaft and slide him out of your mouth with a small pop.

“Y-n—”

"I’m not fucking with you, just hold on," you say, cutting him off as your freezing hand grasps his inferno of a dick.

If Eric minds it’s not enough for him to take himself back; only one of his eyebrows raise in question and that’s the extent of it.

Meeting his gaze, you let your fangs drop with a click — slow enough so he can see, but he still doesn’t stop you — and take his length in once more.

He moans.

Teeth protruding, you take him in until your nose is tucked against his pelvis, fangs scraping against his sensitive dick all the while. Have him swearing under his breath and his hands trembling as he clutches both at the back of your head; your mouth suctioned to him, his hands cushioned by your plush hair, and fingers sunk into your curls the only things keeping him upright.

Your eyes slide shut and you surrender completely to how he uses you, hands clenched painfully against your thighs and blood dilated drool gliding down your chin.

Eric’s head snaps back and his body trembles as his cum coats the back of your esophagus, a garbled shout tearing from his throat.

He holds you in place, likely watching how your throat bobs as you swallow his seed.

After a few minutes of him calming down, breathe hitching at the brush of your fangs when you retract them from his welted flesh and every time you subconsciously swallow, his grip softens and he releases his hold on your head entirely as he slips out of your mouth.

Eric laughs, low and steady and fucking perfect like he practically never does.

It’s only then that you remember to open your eyes and you blink slowly up to him.

His fangs are out now, a trickle of blood running down his chin from where he bit clean through his bottom lip, and his eyes…

You feel yourself sigh before you can stifle the urge, and undeniably he notices because those already bright eyes seem to glow with their amber as they meet yours.

Eric was prettier than one man had any right to be.

He puts his bloody, already healing, dick away and zips his pants back up. Something you’ll be sure to rectify after you’ve let the man sleep before you slip back into the night. Dhampir or not Eric shouldn’t have the beginnings of bags under his eyes, not with his healing factor.

But Eric’s inability to allow himself to slow down was something you had plenty of practice with amending by now; whether that be with a fight or a fuck.

“You gon let me get my hands on you now?”

Something like that.

With inhuman speed you crawl up Eric’s body. Strong shoulders and steady legs hold your weight without budging before his arms wrap around you to keep you in place.

“Bed,” you order, wrapping around him in turn, your ankles crossed at his back and arms around his shoulders.

You smile at him as he’s securing you, full-toothed and a little mean. Run the tips of your sharp manicured nails over the subtle indent of his scalp tattoo and the fine hairs prickling at the back of his head, and wait while he moves you both across the room.

“You’re eager,” Eric grunts, one corner of his mouth ticking up.

Laughing, you lean into him even more, lips grazing the shell of his ear and teeth nipping at his lobe.

“You’re the one carrying me.”

He cuts you a look and you shrug. He can’t tell you shit when you were clearly speaking the truth, though, and his mouth stays steady shut.

"Only the best for the greatest vampire hunter in the world," you snicker, kissing his cheek.

All the Daywalker does in the face of your teasing is grumble unintelligibly and then you’re falling through the air.

You’re flipping him off before you’ve even landed, and your middle finger is still in the air when you’re bouncing atop his mattress.

“Is this new?” you question immediately after, eyes panning over his black sheets and contemplating the higher level of cushion beneath your ass.

Color you surprised that was the way his new “friends’” influence has impacted him. Barely six months ago Eric wouldn’t have thrown away a t-shirt he’d been beaten and mauled in, just thrown it in the wash and stitched the shit back up “good as new”, let alone buy a new mattress without it having basically been split in half.

“Who convinced you— shit!” you exclaim, too slow to speed out of the way so Eric can’t catch you up.

He’s looming over you in a blur, smile almost boyish.

Eric hikes your leg over his hip, warm breathe fanning over your lips, “What I tell you about playing with me?”

The smile that pulls at your lips to meet his own is slow forming but wide.

You cock your head.

“Oh so when you’re in charge you get to fuck with me all you want, but I don’t get to do what I want with you when I am?”

“Stop being a smartass.”

"Having captured the attention of someone as rare as you, Daywalker, I don’t think I can be anymore." You brush your lips against his, taking the hand he’s not using to prop himself up and guiding it where you want him to be. "Now do what you promised, pretty boy," you coo, pressing his hand into your soaked underwear.

It’s damp with a mixture of natural slick and blood and Eric shivers, breath hitching, before quickly stripping you of your panties. The fabric rips and he doesn’t even blink at your noise of complaint, just makes sure you hook your leg over his hip as he throws your soaked underwear to the ground.

When the dhampir moves to make out with you it’s smothering, the press of his lips all consuming, and the fangs that nip at you sharp. You match him kiss for kiss and bite for bite.

Eric grips your upper thigh tight and you dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back as his fingers glide across your wet folds.

A string of tiny curses and whines for more leave your lips at the sudden fullness of his fingers thrusting into you and his thumb teasing over your clit. Groaning into his mouth, you open your legs wider for him and arch into his touch, eyes squeezing shut.

"Nng, Eric please,” you moan into his skin, your hands scrambling up to wrap around his shoulders.

His pounding is relentless, only just missing your g-spot on every thrust, but you want more.

You sink your fingers into his cropped hair, yanking on his tight curls and pushing down at him with your other hand on his shoulder to urge him where you want.

Eric chuckles, letting up from your mouth to nip little welts down your throat and place tender kisses to your neck and collarbones as he moves his fingers, still simultaneously thrusting and rubbing your clit. It doesn’t take long till your legs are shaking uncontrollably against him and he’s hiking both over his shoulders though.

You nearly sob in relief when he finally runs the point of his fangs over your outer labia, engorged clit pulsing with the assistance of the stolen blood still in your veins (both Eric’s and not).

When Eric delves into your sex it’s with the vigor of a man starved. He licks and sucks and drinks his fill all while you’re bucking your hips into his mouth, muted unbidden whimpers falling past your kiss bitten lips.

His hands rub soothingly up and down your raised thighs, heedless of their trembling over your stomach and the way you let your chest heave.

"You about to come for me already?" he chuckles against your folds, voice cocky.

Not giving you time to snap at him he takes one of his hands off your thighs, trusting you to keep it up, and makes a point of waiting until you open your eyes to question his dawdling before making his next move. Eric locks eyes with you, rubbing two fingers through the pale red arousal pouring from your vagina with little urgency, and you’re a beat of his heart away from swiping at him for fucking with you when his fingers sink into your slick pussy.

You shout, that nebulous point of euphoria edging nearer.

His hand speeds up soon after. Once again giving you little mercy while he pistons his fingers in and out of you and your slick runs down your dewy skin without care for the sheets under you.

Vampiric claws scrape at Eric’s ink decorated shoulders as you pepper him with demands and bits of praise, only stopping to hiss out roughly in pleasure with your fangs bared when he takes to sucking on your clit like he’s trying to draw blood.

“Fuck,” you growl, eyes rolling to the back of your head and hips bucking wildly.

Eric pins you down, spread of his hands wide where he’s holding onto your thighs, and bites. The juncture between your leg and pelvis flares with pain and you choke before pitching into a wail and falling straight over the edge into an orgasm.

You barely have the mind to snap your arm up so you can bite into your forearm and muffle your noises as Eric sinks his fangs into you and drinks even more of his fill. And whatever crimson mead he got from your vagina clearly hadn’t been enough because the man was sucking on you like a damn Capri Sun.

“J— Jesus fuck, E,” you gasp, slumping into the bed.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sounds of his gulps the soundtrack to your hazy bliss.

When he’s finished Eric doesn’t lap at you the way you had his wrist; instead he pulls off, easing your legs to flop down to the bed too, and rubs his thumb over the trickles of blood running from your inner thigh.

He holds his thumb up to your lips and you open up to suck it into your mouth. Your ice cold blood is a cacophony of types. A mixture of AB, O, and B dance across your tongue while Eric gazes down at you like you’re the closest thing to a god he’ll ever need.

Eric removes his thumb, sucks at your saliva, and then slumps against you.

The vampire hunter kisses delicately over the undead skin of your forehead, the press of his lips soft and unscarred.

You let yourself sigh, stretching out your body as your refractory period ends, and tuck yourself under your occasional partner’s chin.

When Eric — big bad Blade — cradles you to his chest in turn your eyebrows tick up. Head resting against his chest, you drum the pads of your fingers over where his heart beats and go with it anyway.

“Touchy,” you hum lowly.

Eric grunts in response, pretty much just ignoring the twinge of accusation in your voice.

You grin into his skin.

It was worth a shot.

“How long till you leave?” he asks, tone his poorest attempt at nonchalance yet even with his grumbling.

You sigh, shifting in his hold so you can look him in the face. His arms tighten around you, the gaze he pins you with shadowed with something too close to sorrow.

"As soon as possible," you say, a frown pulling at your ageless features. “I’ve got some time sensitive targets.”

“Mm,” he grunts. He looks away from you, jaw clenched. “So I’m outta luck.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that yet,” you say, moving to kiss the corner of his scowl. “I can spare a night.”

“Huh.” He squeezes at your hips. “You sure? Thought you’d be more into all that sleeping in coffins bullshit.”

You chuckle, tone dark. Skilled fingers brush across his jawline, touch delicate and nails sharp where they dip into his skin.

They don’t break blood, however.

And Eric doesn’t stop you besides.

Softly, you click your tongue, “I mean, I like a good coffin every once in a while. Frills, fluffy pillows, dark and locked tight, you know the drill.” Meeting his eyes, you smirk. Show him a little fang. “Your arms are good too, though.”

“Thanks.” Eric gives a grunt of a laugh, shaking his head.

He doesn’t remotely dislodge you though, and that shadow you could see slipping over his face stays askew over those pretty amber eyes still.

You could spare a night with Eric, be something of a haven of familiarity for him, before he embarked on another hunt and you went back to knocking out hearts in the name of human protection for breakfast.

Or you know…in the name of your own bloodlust.

Tomato, Tamato.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!!!!!

Yeah, I tried.

The reader-insert isn’t on her period, I just kind of went the ‘blood is every bodily fluid’ route for the vampires here ala True Blood. And I know the rule is not to use teeth ever (and for good reason) but I just find the idea that vampires are built different fun.

Also, if this is bad you can tell me, but please be nice. I’ve been working on this thing all day and I’m tired. And honestly by the time I got to the reader-insert’s orgasm I only had four hours and thirty minutes left in the day.

Mind any typos, I’m half asleep rn, and I’ll probably catch them later.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[priceswifebb]

Ghost would crash the most, but Johnnys crashes level his car every time. Miracle they’re alive at all. And in one piece. Ghost drives a challenger, Johnny drives a mustang.

Prices car is the closest one to a beater out of all of them. The rust, weird noises and odd quirks gives it personality love, he says. His car is also an absolute nightmare to detail because he insists that the first cup holder is his ash tray and the built up pile of ash has to stay. Car smells reaaaaaal funky. Never rolls his window up to smoke. Drives an older model Camaro

Gaz’s is the newest and nicest. He’s not very messy but he always hires you to detail it. The only thing with him is his car is also his gym locker and he has so much shit in the back seat and it smells like man sweat. Will never take it out before bringing his car to your shop. Feel like he’d drive a hellcat

Sometimes they just show up and hangout in your lot to drink beer, play music loud and talk shit about whatever car you’re trying to fix at that moment (you’re scaring the clientele guys pls)

THIS!! This is so accurate!!

I feel like yes they can be annoying and dirty at times and can scare away the clients sometimes there is also a lot of pros of them being around almost 24/7.

Such as when a client is being a bit to aggressive trying to haggle you out of your original price and then you got four big burly men who are like your security and the client backs off and doesn't come back until their car is ready.

I Also think that both Soap and Gaz are huge energy drink people so every now and then you'll see a few monsters or red bulls in Gaz's car BUT soap car... you're scared of even opening his door in fear of a shit ton of old red bulls, monsters and Rockstar energy drinks cans attacking you.

It's also pretty cool because you have these men at your disposal. You can use them to pick up heavy car parts that you don't want to, just let out a sharp whistle and you got one of them or all of their attention.

Going back to Price's rank smelling car I can imagine a scenario where reader is giving his car back to him and he sees one of the car air freshener and he's like "what's this love? I dont need one." And you respond with "yes you do I'm tired of working on a smelly ass car."

Not the first time won't be the last that Soap drives to your shop with a door missing a door, a headlight broken, tires near to being smooth and a dopey grin on his face as he calls you over to assess his fucked up mustang that's running on prayers by now.

I don't know why but I can see Ghost's always having cracks or being broken and you're always confused because how hard are you racing for your windshield to be broken all the time???

Doesn't matter how many time you scold them for intimidating other clients and making fun of their cars but they ain't gonna stop they are jealous that others are taking the cute mechanic's attention.

By the amount of times they have come to your shop so you can work on their cars you who's car is who's by the way they sound.

You are silently cursing out gaz while you detail his car moving his gym bag random shit he has in his trunk also I truly believe this man has the most random things lost in the seats like once you were cleaning it out and just found a TV remote like wtf??

[casualsnickers]

Month of Emmet Quick Write #16

Prompt #16: Hat

Back together at last! It's the day Ingo and Emmet are both due to feature on the Multi Line at the same time (with new pokémon to boot). And to celebrate Emmet returning to the station after a much-needed vacation, a few tag-alongs decide to show up and keep him company. One's made of acrylic, though.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

“Bossman! Your coffee has arrived!”

Emmet looked up from his stack of paperwork as both Cameron and Ramses eased their way into his shared office, the two men waltzing up to his desk saddled with bags and drink carriers. “Coffee? For me?” Emmet asked sarcastically. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

“We really shouldn’t have. The price has gone up a whole dollar,” Ramses grunted. “Costed me a pretty poké just to get coffee for all the joes on shift. Oh, and apparently, the heating element in the coffee shop was broken so I had them make you cold brew instead, boss. No espresso. No additives.” Ramses then plucked up a clear plastic cup and delicately set it down on the desk, rattling the ice around in the cup. “Bitter and strong, just the way you like it for some reason. Here’s your concrete juice, boss.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” Cameron commented, stealing his own drink from a drink carrier. “I thought we agreed to call it wet tar. Liquid death. Ye olden sludge- “

Emmet took an experimental sip of the almost black mixture in the cup, not quite sure how to feel about the icy temperature or the strange smoothness of the drink. The flavor of the brew was spot on, though. He took another sip, leaning back in his chair. “Concrete juice is funnier, though. Sounds like poison.”

Ramses smirked. “See? You gotta switch it up, Cam.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Says the guy that only ever orders tea from a coffee shop,” Cameron retorted, taking a muffin from one of the other bags on the desk.

“Listen here. The chai that the shop sells is amazing. Don’t you ever shit on my tea.”

“Whatever, old man.”

“Take you and your overly-sweet, tooth-rotting frappuccino out of here, Cam.”

“You’re just mad your tea has barely any flavor.”

“Stop arguing.” Emmet waved the two depot agents out of his office, immediately going back to his schedule, albeit with his mood brightened by his coffee. It wasn’t his favorite but it was quite good.

Within the hour, Emmet’s break would be over. He was due to board the Multi Line with Ingo and show him the ropes for how it worked and to Emmet’s excitement, they would get to battle in tandem. And to Emmet’s further excitement, both he and Ingo would be battling with new pokémon, something both Cameron and Cloud had been chomping at the bit to see.

The door to the office clicked open, Ingo striding in as he set down his coat on his desk. “Emmet! Good morning!” his brother called, his eyes crinkled in an easy smile.

“Good morning, Ingo!” Emmet grinned. “You seem awfully chipper today. How were the morning lines? Pleasant?”

“They were quite nice, indeed,” Ingo commented, readjusting his shirt and tie as he moved over to the private pc within their office. “Many of the commuters have been very kind and welcoming to me ever since I reappeared at this station. I have received quite a few welcome back presents.” And as if to prove his point, the moment Ingo finished up by the pc and opened his locker, a massive bag fell out and onto the floor. “...Egads.”

Emmet peered over at his brother’s locker, sighting quite a few things. Cards, pens, books, and even a few plush dolls. No foodstuffs.

“Oh! And I have something for you!”

Emmet blinked. “For me? What is it?”

Ingo fixed his hair in the locker mirror before walking over to his brother, holding out a clenched hand. “A commuter wanted me to give this to you on account of allegedly being too afraid to do so themself. Might you know anything about why that might be?”

Emmet shook his head. “I am the scary twin. You should know this by now.”

Regardless, Ingo shook his head and opened his palm revealing- 

“A shiny Joltik charm?!” Emmet immediately snatched up the item, finding out that the tiny accessory was a pin in disguise. “For me? Aww, you shouldn’t have! This is fantastic!”

“The commuter in question was adamant that you would like it. I am happy to see that they were certainly on the right track. If I happen to see them again, I will inform them that their intuition was correct.”

Emmet had a better idea. He picked up his hat from where it sat on the coat rack by the door and carefully affixed the Joltik charm to the top of his hat like a badge of honor. “There! Now, it is obvious that I received it. That way, if I happen to be near the passenger who gifted me with the charm, they will know that I liked their present.”

Ingo smiled. “Very well! But it’s nearing the end of the hour and we must be off toward the Multi platform.”

“Are you excited?” Emmet asked, rising from his chair. “This is going to be the first time we’ve battled side-by-side since you arrived home. You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Positively! I have been waiting earnestly to realign my tracks with yours and battle beside you once again.” Ingo threw his coat back on and straightened out his brand-new cap, checking the line of pokéballs at his side. “Words cannot describe how… uncanny it was not having you to battle alongside so long ago. But! Now we are both coupled together again! Do you think the passengers will be excited that we will once again be a two-car train?”

“Positively! Ingo, all of the challenger spots for the Multi Line have been booked out for an entire month. Or have you just not noticed?”

“I haven’t.” Ingo then shook his head and walked over to Emmet, handing him his coat. “Enough chit-chat. Let us be off, Emmet! We shouldn’t disappoint our challengers by delaying any further.”

“Fine, fine. Right behind you, Ingo!”

As Emmet snagged his hat off of the coat stand, he felt something wiggle around under his cap, tiny poking sensations nestling under his cap. “Hmm?” He then took off his cap, his eyes widening. “Oh! My hat is infested with Joltiks!”

“Woe, the plague be upon ye,” Ingo quoted without missing a beat. He then paused, reaching under his own cap to retrieve a plump Joltik that had tried to nest in his hair. “If only I could hide Litwicks in my own cap.”

“You could if you tried!” Emmet pointed out. “But then you’d have candle wax in your hair.”

“My hat would burst into flames, Emmet. That’s the other important thing.”

“All I’m hearing are excuses.”

[blueberrypancakesworld]

In love with you

sub!Charlie Walker x dom/Ghostface!fem reader

warning : smut, p in v , chocking, kissing, knife play, blood play, mommy kink, a very very whiny messy Charlie, both are mentally not really sane, riding, tw : death, blood, use of Y/n, hope it's not too much out of character, minors don't interact

masterlist

Info : Glad to be back, glad to have my smut back and very glad that you all want some Charlie juice ;) It was really fun to write even if it was a little difficult because I had multiple ideas (eventho the more whinyer the better) I hope you all like it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She loves to hold the knife in her hand. Feeling the heavy cold metal when you stabbed. The warm blood and the screams were beautiful. Just being able to do whatever she wanted and see how others reacted. To watch and let the police grope in the dark. Loved putting on the mask and the dark robe.

Loved coming up with the plan with Jill. How they had meticulously planned everything together. Every death, every trap, every phone call and every stab to the last of their victims.

The sacrifices that would make Jill famous, give her the spotlight she wanted. Finally giving her friend the love she wanted. Charlie Walker, her friend and classmate at film club.

The sweet shy nerd with the fluffy brown wavy hair, the infinitely beautiful blue eyes and just cute. Jill wanted the limelight but Y/n just wanted her Charlie. Her sweet little Charlie. She, Jill, Kirby and just about everyone knew Charlie had a thing for her.

Knew that the brown haired one was always looking after her, complimenting her, helping her and almost following her around like a dog.

But when it came to the first step she had already made more than a hundred times, he retreated in panic. A thing that was cute for her but also frustrating, which is why she teamed up with Jill. Because the deal was simple not only did they both want to get rid of some people.

The desire to finally get what they wanted was all the more tempting. ,,You get Charlie and I'll get my fans" she remembered Jill's words when the brown-haired girl met her. One of many meetings in different places where they talked for hours.

But even if the legendary Sideny and Gales had come along, the Stabathon was inevitable. Just a phase of the plan she thought as she looked around the barn. Spotted her course mates, a few of her friends and saw Charlie standing next to Robby watching them film the baton.

They were each having a drink like everyone else in the red plastic cups. The white shirt suited him, highlighting his dark hair and blue eyes. She saw him smirk slightly and let his gaze wander until he caught sight of her. She swayed towards him and smiled even wider, seeing him sway back slightly and his cheeks turn pink.

He smoothed down his shirt as he saw her coming towards him. "Awkward and cute" she thought as she arrived in front of him and saw Robby give them both a little space. ,,Good evening Charlie" she said playfully polite and sipped her drink. He almost flinched as his eyes looked up from her body to her eyes.

He seemed to know she saw everything and yet he didn't hide it. At least he didn't try. ,,Evening Y/n you look good I mean you always do" he quickly corrected himself and ran a hand through his hair.

She thought his cheeks were getting even redder. Damn cute. ,,Thanks Charlie, you too," she replied before walking past him and letting her hand wander up his arm.

He heard him hold his breath, his eyes moving back and forth between the floor and her. He didn't know what to do and seemed too overwhelmed. ,,I'll see you later," she murmured and gave him a knowing wink before leaving him alone. The evening was going to be wonderful.

After Jill had shown up as Ghostface and panicked. Had everyone terrified and Y/n had just played the terrified panic like everyone else. Keeping the smile on her lips from showing, she soon reached Charlie in the chaos.

The brown-haired man was both excited, scared and worried. ,,Are you all right? Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?" was the first thing he asked when he saw her leaning against one of the hay bales outside. What wouldn't you do for love? she thought and leaned further. Running in high heels was no fun but she would do anything for Charlie.

She shook her head, feigning insecurity and fear as she breathlessly said, ,,No, I'm fine, I'm scared". She saw his look of sympathy, his blue eyes flitting over her, looking to see if she was injured. ,,The main thing is that you are alright, the police are here now" he replied and she saw him, unsure of what to do, seemingly put his hand on hers.

She saw his fingers shaking from the adrenaline and devotion. ,,Thank you Charlie," she said hastily and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly and giving him a grateful look. She saw how he seemed to forget everything and gave a stammering ,,Gladly - always for you" as he helped her down to the car park.

The car park was just a somewhat flat area with all the cars. Arriving at his car, she leaned against it slightly and watched as he looked for his mobile phone. ,,Wait a minute," he murmured and gave her a smile before he called Robby and she knew exactly what it was about.

She knew exactly what he was asking, what was going to happen. He had fallen into the trap. ,,Hey, Robbie, me and Jill and Kirby are going to watch the Stabathon...do you want to come?" he asked, gesturing from his phone to his car. Too easy, she thought, remembering how safe the plan she and Jill had come up with was. It really was too easy.

Pretending to think for a moment and look at her phone she finally said, ,,Sure I mean it's safe...especially with you". Seeing how it made him proud that she trusted him so much, that she needed him, that he was needed. Before they both got into his car and drove away from the barn. For Charlie there was only his y/n and for her there was only Charlie. The evening would be perfect.

The drive only took ten minutes, but it was ten minutes of being together in a small space. ,,So it's a private Stabathon, do you think there's enough room?" she asked, looking up at him, watching as he let his gaze slide to her for a moment before focusing on the road again.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he concentrated on driving. ,,I mean I don't mind but what if I have to sit on your lap when the couch is too full?" she asked innocently, looking out the smaller window of the passenger seat.

Saw in the reflection of the window how he sought her gaze, how he wanted to see what she meant. Sweetheart wants my attention, he wants to be good for me, it went through her head and she bit her lip for a moment. But her plans and actions would have to wait - it would be all the nicer.

He cleared his throat and stammered something she only half understood. While she smiled softly, she put a hand on his thigh. ,,Let's hope there are enough seats or not," she let the sentence sit in silence, watching him nod apathetically before the last few minutes were driven.

So they arrived at Jill's house and went in together but the party seemed to be halfway through. Robby was already very drunk and Jill was chatting happily with the blonde Kirby. ,,Y/n! You're here too!" her friend Kirby called out and wrapped her in a hug. Feeling the joy and carelessness, she saw the short nod of Jill who also smiled and embraced her.

Everything was perfectly prepared. Sitting down with the other girls, however, she almost saw Charlie. If only Kirby wasn't she thought and her gaze went to the blonde. She liked Kirby, she was nice, friendly and strong.

She might have stayed alive if she hadn't been so unkind to Charlie. The brown-haired man had a crush on the blonde. Even though Y/n was only an observer at the time, it was clear to everyone that Kirby was only playing with him.

Making him hopeful only to let him fall again. Poor Charlie kept jumping at it only to be disappointed. She even thought she saw tears in his eyes once. No one will ever hurt you again it went threw her head and took a sip of her beer.

She continued to watch the group and glanced at Jill from time to time. It was time to start. Not only was it a great advantage that Robby stumbled outside to continue his livestream, but Jill's disappearance left Charlie, Kirby and her alone.

Initially, it was just smaltalk and a little staff watching for the first few moments, but it shouldn't last much longer. Making an uncomfortable noise, she ran her hand over her stomach. Leaning forward slightly, she muttered, ,,I think the alcohol was too much," before standing up and walking to the stairs.

She saw the worried looks on Charlie's and Kirby's faces, both of them worried. One more than the other. ,,Kirby I need you" she mumbled and held a hand over her mouth before hurrying upstairs.

Walking into the large bathroom and letting her acting run wild, she heard Kirby call out, ,,I've got a pill!" moments later and come up to her. Giving her best performance, she started screaming, using the blood from her previous victims and scattering it all over the bathroom. ,,Kir-Kiryb help!" she screamed, knocking things over in the bathroom and screaming even louder.

Before she collapsed with a final scream in a pool of blood on the floor. It was only seconds later that the blonde came rushing in. ,,Y/n oh no what happened?" she asked worriedly her voice strained as she knelt down to her.

She felt her trembling fingers run over her body and tried to bring her into an upright position. But everything was just right. ,,Your playing with Charlie," Y/n murmured and slipped away from Kirby's grasp, who stood there in disbelief. ,,What?" she muttered just before the knife went into her neck.

It came too quickly for the blonde to react. ,,Hypocrite, using him like that! Making fun of him!" she hissed and tore the knife from her neck only to plunge it into her stomach.

Heard the blonde's choking gasp as she somehow tried to stop the wound. But it was no use, only after a few more cuts and stabs, Kirby lay on the floor. Now it was a real pool of blood. She continued to stab the already dead woman and took out all her rage on her.

She scolded her, reproached her for her opinion and felt the adrenaline and this unbelievably good feeling go through her body. Breathing lightly and rising from the dead but still warm body, she brushed the blood from her face. She looked at the small cupboard where Jill had hidden one of the costumes.

She listened, but Charlie seemed either to be hiding or oblivious. Too absorbed in the staff she thought and pulled the robe and mask over herself before gripping the knife tighter. But she didn't look at Kirby again before she turned off the light and pulled the door shut. In the hallway she heard the television on downstairs and even thought she heard Charlie muttering.

He hadn't noticed anything. Turning off the voice changer, she called out, still feeling ill, ,,Cha-Charlie can you help me please!" before disappearing into the darkness of the bedroom, knowing he would come. To her.

She heard his clearing of the throat, his short murmur before he came up the stairs. ,,Y/n? Is everything all right?" he asked and was about to go into the bathroom when she made a deliberate squeak with the door in the bedroom. Hiding in the darkness of the room, she heard him say her name again and go into the room. The light came on and he stepped into the room.

Time to get her thing of the plan. With a jerk she pushed the door shut and stood in front of it. She saw and heard the scream of Charlie who backed away but didn't quite seem to believe what had happened.

But he reacted differently than she had thought, completely differently. ,,Okay Robbie, what is it? Is this some kind of plan with Y/n?" he asked and crossed his arms. He seemed rather annoyed that he had been tricked and frightened.

But she just tilted her head slightly and took a step towards him. ,,Guess again," Ghostface said in his unmistakable voice and Charlie began to play along. He ran his fingers through his hair, unaware of the danger.

He considered playfully and took a step back. ,,Mhhh we are all here. ,,If you're not Robbie and Y/n aren't you Kirby?" he asked, but Ghostface just shook his head before the knife flashed in the light.

The dark blood still clung to the blade. ,,Fake blood is a classic but no if you're not and neither is Robby," he continued to think and leaned against the wall of the room. Ghostface came up to him she looked behind the mask for a sign that he knew.

He thinks I'm innocent ran through her mind and a touched smile came to her lips. She tried something else, hoping for a reaction. His very special reaction. She held the knife out to him and the tip of the blade went to his face.

He realised the blade was real, but he didn't seem entirely convinced. ,,Try it," Ghostface said, and let the silver, blood-soaked blade hover in front of his mouth. ,,Okay?" came the questioning voice and she thought she could almost hear his thoughts. What the hell am I doing here? they seemed to say, but he did it anyway. She watched spellbound at how intimate the whole thing actually was. When his cheeks turned a little pink as he ran his tongue over the blade.

But then it dawned on him. His blue eyes first showed confusion, then disbelief as he looked along the costume. Before he stammered out a ,,No, you-ghostface" and tried to back away. But he didn't get far, he just pressed himself further against the wall.

He was trapped and had built his own trap. She heard his breathing quicken and he seemed to be thinking feverishly about how to get out of the situation. ,,Oh, Charlie, don't," the consumed voice said suddenly as the knife landed in the wall beside his head.

A strangled whimper came from him and he closed his eyes for a moment. Afraid of becoming the next victim. She took off her gloves and her costume before removing her mask. ,,Don't be alarmed, it's only me," she said softly and stepped closer to him. She carefully put a hand on his cheek and lightly ran her thumb up and down his cheek.

She didn't want to frighten him any more. ,,The scare is over, you know?" she asked and reached for his with her other hand. He had clenched his fist and was trembling slightly, yet he was so beautiful. ,,You see, she won't be able to hurt you any more," she continued and took his hand up to hers.

Gave it soft kisses, kissed every knuckle of his fingers, trying to make him understand that she only wanted to save him, wanted to help. ,,What?" he asked but his gaze went to the floor which was only brought back up by her hand on his cheek. He didn't have to hide, he didn't have to pretend like Kirby, he had to show pride.

She felt his fist loosen slightly but still not open. He was still stiff and didn't know what to do. ,,Kirby, I'm talking about that ungrateful, selfish bitch! She took advantage of you and played with you" she said, but even though her words were vulgar, her voice was still soft. ,,You didn't deserve that," she added and saw his gaze go to her, searching for confirmation.

His fist opened and he carefully intertwined his fingers with hers. Lifting his hand again she kissed his hand again wanting to show him how much he meant to her. ,,All this for you, just you," she murmured and her fingers brushed against his cheek, over his lips. She wiped a little bit of the blood from his lips.

Saw him watching her fingers before she licked them lightly. ,,Sweet," she murmured, watching him draw in a shaky breath and his cheeks darken even more. ,,Really?" he said suddenly, seeming to be in a mix of disbelief and bewilderment.

Before she overcame the last movements between them and kissed him. She could feel him whimpering and taste his fear and yet devotion. Saw him close his eyes and she smiled slightly. ,,So good Charlie, all for you," she mumbled to him as she leaned in to his ear.

He slowly relaxed and seemed to realise that she would do anything for him. ,,For me" he mumbled and she thought she could see a short smile on his lips. ,,Yes, just for you," she replied when he finally seemed to understand. He laughed and saw his blue eyes show joy. The two of them had been lost in the madness.

They had found each other in the chaos. ,,You're not going to kill me?" came more like a question from his lips, which had a slight red tinge. Looking at the knife on the wall and then back at him, she shook her head apathetically. ,,Oh no no no" she said and ran her hand through his brown hair.

She felt the softness and his sigh as he seemed relieved. ,,So much for me," he murmured, seeming unable to believe it. She nodded, acknowledging his statement, and watched as he seemed to decide something for himself. They both seemed to intensify in their view and in the madness.

She felt his hands go to her waist before he engaged her in another kiss. How he held on to her almost desperately, not wanting her to leave him. ,,I-I thought you were like them...just playing" she heard him say and heard how brittle and desperate he sounded.

Saw tears creep into his eyes and he sniffled. ,,No, Charlie, no," she said and took his hand before pulling him onto the bed and sitting them both down on it.

He seemed to consider and then gave her a grateful look. ,,So pretty" she spoke her thoughts and saw how it touched him. He loved and enjoyed the praise. ,,So incredibly pretty," she continued and pulled him into another kiss, feeling him cling to the bedspread. A sigh came over his lips and she let her hand wander over his body.

She felt his warmth, his fast heartbeat and his excitement. But that turned into arousal when she looked down at his lap. ,,Oh, Charlie," she playfully taddled and stroked a strand of hair behind his ear.

She saw him looking down at his shot, both embarrassed and taken with it, and only nodded subtly. ,,Tanned by a murderess," she told him the obvious and glanced at the knife.

The blood on the blade he had not taken off was still on it. Just as she rose from the bed he said hastily, ,,Don't go, not you-you're not a murderer to me," he said as if afraid she would leave him because he wasn't good enough.

She smiled slightly with each word from his lips, her devotion to him growing more and more. ,,What am I then?" she asked and took the knife from the wall and slowly came towards him. She saw him swallow and crawl slowly backwards onto the knife. But his gaze did not lose hers.

He was curious to see what she would do next. She came to him on the bed and saw him gasp as she held the knife out to him. ,,Do you want to hold it?" she asked, a glint of madness in her eyes. He looked at her in amazement and she suddenly held the tip of the knife to his neck as she sat on his hips.

A mix of a moan and a swallowed ,,Don't" left his lips as he swallowed. His hands not knowing whether to push her away or pull her closer. ,,Or do you want to feel it? You're getting good, aren't you? For me...for Mommy?" she asked with a small smile as her lips left soft kisses on his face. Seeing him almost whimper at the nickname alone sent a wave of excitement through his body.

She took his brief nod, which caused her to press the knife slightly harder against his neck. ,,Yes-yes mommy" he said hastily and got an appreciative nod as she moved slightly on his hip which made him sit up. He, however, did not dare to move.

She let the tip of the knife pass over his neck for a moment and felt him swallow. The gasp as she began to leave the red stripes.

Before she grabbed his shirt and was about to rip it off when she rose from him and said, ,,Take it off". Embarrassed and slightly awkward, he began to unbutton his shirt while she began to take off her own clothes. Only a few moments later they were both naked. Exposed as they would never be with each other, at least not for real.

But there were many dreams. She saw his upper body, even if it wasn't riddled with muscles like the athletes on the football team, she found it even more beautiful. Charlie's cheeks became even redder as he was exposed to her gaze and murmured only a ,,please" as he lay back on the bed.

Coming to his plea, she sat back on him and felt his already aroused cock before she grasped the knife again. The blade flashed in the light again and Charlie's fingers played with the bedspread. Placing the blade against his torso, she first began to spread soft kisses over the pale skin.

Every time her lips touched his warm skin he seemed to wake up. Mumbling how good she was, how he didn't deserve her, he thanked her. ,,So good for me" she murmured, looking to him to see him seeking her gaze only to engage him in another kiss.

Heard his moan as her free hand went down to his cock and stroked it teasingly. ,,Please...Mommy...more" he mumbled and moved his hips slightly to get more contact. But at the same moment she had left the first red streaks on his torso which made him cry and beg even more. ,,You can be so good" she reminded him and wiped away a tear with her hand to praise him.

She knew about his condition, but she also knew he would be able to endure it. He would do anything for her. Saw his nod before she continued to run the knife over his body and he pulled himself together not to plead.

He tried to muffle the sounds echoing in the room with the back of his hand. Which was pointless, of course, but he tried. He tried hard to show her that he could do it.

Didn't want to disappoint her. He cried out when she broke his skin with the knife. It was only a small trickle of blood that flowed down his torso. But for her it was everything.

Quickly licking the blood with her tongue, apologetically but greedily, she sighed excitedly. ,,Such a good boy," she praised and felt his hands on her hips as he carefully ran over her skin. ,,Ah-nu-mhhh-just for you," he murmured and threw his head into the pillow as she continued to make his skin break open.

With her tongue and fingers she caught the blood and licked it off, her own arousal increasing. ,,Here," she said in a voice filled with lust as she held out her fingers, still a little stained with his blood.

Without a murmur he opened his mouth and began to suck on her fingers, licking them clean of the blood of his own. ,,Can't get enough of me, can you?" she asked the obvious question and heard the muffled moan diminished by her fingers.

How well-behaved and obedient he was to her. ,,Such a good boy must be rewarded," she told him her thoughts and took her fingers out of his mouth, which he acknowledged with a whimper. Instead, her free hand slid down to his cock again. Giving it a few strokes, she felt the precum already spilling from the tip.

He desperately tried not to move his hips as she continued to praise him. ,,I know it's going to get better, sweetie," she said and gave him a reassuring kiss before repositioning herself and settling on his cock moments later. Both parties moaned and her fingers scratched over his torso.

Sinter left more strimming and Charlie's hands held tight to her hips. ,,Ah-so,so good" she said and began to move at a pace that was comfortable for her. Charlie had to wait. While she found her tempo, she tightened her grip on the knife. Drawing it across his torso again before using her other hand to run it through his hair.

Making him hold still and moan pathetically as she pulled on it. ,,Mommy! More-ah...please-please" he said tearfully and she pulled harder on his hair to expose his neck. Not to be dissuaded by her pace, which was too slow for him, she began to suck on his aorta.

She felt the rapid heartbeat under her lips, the whimpering, sobbing and moaning. ,,All yours" she heard him say, a sentence his lust-ridden brain could just about manage.

As she finished macking him and stroked her thumb over the work before her hand wrapped around his neck. ,,I got you baby" she purred and moaned as she increased the pace as requested.

Her noises mingled with his and she squeezed harder. Hearing his stifled moans, the tears running from his blue eyes through the pain and lust.

As she continued to stroke his body with the knife. ,,So ah-mhh-so good" he gasped even though she hardly understood, they were both too caught up in the lust. She saw him blush slightly from the oxygen deprivation.

Before she released him after a few seconds only to kiss him greedily again. Taking his moans with her as she bit his lip and tasted his blood. Her insides tightened around his cock and it twitched in response.

They both wanted to climax and finally let go. ,,Are you-fuck gonna be good?" she asked, resting her hands on his torso again, steadying herself to keep the pace. Keeping the movement just right. He nodded hastily before crying, ,,Yes, I'll be good-ah real good," and taking his hands away from him.

Not touching her and letting her do it. But first it was her turn, it only took a few more movements and another look from the tearful, pretty darling brought her to her climax. Moaning his name and clawing at him, she came down slowly from her high a few moments later. Breathing heavily, she put aside the knife she still had in her hand.

Before she turned her gaze to Charlie, who couldn't have looked more handsome and equally in love. ,,Please-I-I please...let me come," he begged, tears continuing to flow down his warm cheeks and she felt his patheticness arouse her. Putting her hand on his cheek and stroking him she praised him and said, ,,A good boy can come in Mommy". Before he released himself inside her only seconds later and he clung to her.

A slight tremor went over his body and he gave himself to her. ,,You were so good for me" she praised and stayed on him for a moment. Let him come down from his climax before she broke away from him, much to his chagrin.

He whimpered at the loss of her warmth before he snuggled against her. ,,You were better to me," he murmured and she pulled him even closer.

Stroked his brown hair and heard his exhausted sigh. ,,I'll always be best to you...I love you Charlie" she replied and gave him a kiss on the top of his head before he murmured ,,I love you too" and closed his eyes. Glancing at the still closed door, she snuggled up to him as well. She knew that all she had to do now was fall asleep.

Because if the police came then they were what they were. They were the horny couple who had not heard about all the murders. They were just the couple and no Ghostface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @icarus-star , @shady-the-simp , @spookyorchid , @paranormalfool , @thatsthewrongwallcraig , @roryculkinsgf , @roryculkingsbf , @angelsanarchy , @milaeth , @707otto

[lilaspose]

“What’d you tell her about me?”

“Nothing of import.”

“A slayer of ferocious beasts and savior of the star?”

Erenville huffs and mutters under his breath, “Again, I put it much more eloquently.”

A little ficlet beneath the cut. :> | 665 words | inspired by happenings in the 6.55 patch, cause wow what feast ammiright erenville girlies (gn)?

Raha and Wuk Lamat are ahead, speaking as their little group walks towards the harbor. Avi’li’s attention lingers on Wuk Lamat for a moment, taking in her axe, her composure, her posture. Confident to be sure, but perhaps not as tested as she presents. Certainly she’s not the only one keen to learn more on this little hunt.

Avi’li shifts attention to Erenville. They walk side by side, Erenville’s stride long and Avi’li’s short but quick.

“So,” Avi’li starts and Erenville’s shoulders tense, “you talked about me?”

“We exchanged tales over drinks,” Erenville says, curt and crisp, “and you happened to come up. That is all.”

Avi’li, undeterred by Erenville’s casual dismissal, turns his body and walks backwards with a grin. “What’d you tell her about me?”

“Nothing of import.”

“A slayer of ferocious beasts and savior of the star?”

Erenville huffs and mutters under his breath, “Again, I put it much more eloquently.”

“Dashing Associate Sky Pirate? Champion of Ishgard?”

“Humble about his accomplishments?” Erenville, pointedly looking away until now, gives Avi’li a blank stare. “What is the point of these questions?”

“You can’t blame me for being curious.” Avi’li says with a shrug. He looks over his shoulder—“You’re going to trip,” Erenville says but is ignored—at Wuk Lamat, “‘Sides I need to know what new stories I can share if I’m to travel across the seas with her.”

Erenville’s eyebrows lift, “You are already decided?”

“No. The appeal is there, of course, but,” Avi’li purses his lips, “I worry what this will actually entail.”

Getting wrapped up in his thoughts, Avi’li’s pace slows, eventually coming to a stop over the bridge between the Agnora and Scholar’s Harbor. Erenville stops too, with little choice, nearly standing toe to toe with Avi’li.

“Wuk Lamat hasn’t said what being her champion actually means,” Avi’li continues. He watches the light catch Erenville’s nose, his cheek, before meeting his eyes. “What this contest will be.”

“This is the first time this contest is being held. No one knows what to expect.” One corner of Erenville’s lips lifts into a smirk. “Surely whatever comes will be a worthy challenge for the Champion of Demon Dog Vomit.”

“Pfft!” Avi’li puts his hands on his chest to shove him away, a light hearted attempt that brings them closer, only inches apart now. Avi’li has to crane his neck up to look at him. “What if the contest is fighting myself out of another demon dog?”

The edge of Erenville’s mouth smooths to a slow-blooming smile. “Then Wuk Lamat has found the best champion for her.”

Something about that makes Avi’li feel hot in his face. Is it the way Erenville looks at him now? The new tone in his voice? Both soft, fond.

“Flatterer,” Avi’li says beneath his breath, what little there is in his lungs.

They both laugh, the fleeting, bubbly kind of laugh that fades to nothing in the space between them. Avi’li’s palms burn against Erenville’s chest. This close, he can see the shades of topaz and green in Erenville’s darkening eyes. Avi’li drops his gaze, following a line of light down the slope of Erenville’s nose to his parting lips.

Their lips move, “We…” “—should…”

“OI!”

They jump, heads whipping around to the ramp into the Harbor. Wuk Lamat stands at the top of the ramp, hands cupped around either side of her mouth, yelling loud enough for the island to hear.

“Are you dawdlers coming or not?!”

A slow, long suffering sigh pours out of Erenville.

“We are coming, be patient!” Erenville calls, taking a step back. A chill air from the harbor breezes into the space left between them. “Shall we?”

Erenville doesn’t wait for a response and he walks towards the ramp with a quick, almost eager step.

Avi’li doesn’t follow immediately. His head swims in that lingering moment with topaz and green and salt and pine and mint. He closes his eyes, shakes himself free of whatever that was, and follows after.

[tillthelandslide]

Poor Baby - Ross Macdonald One Shot

A/n: just a quick short one shot I wrote for the lovely @achangeofheartx bc she's the best and I love her

Your period had been out to get you all day, it felt like someone was punching you at the worse moments. Your back had started to ache from the unbearable pain and you wanted nothing more than to go home, slide into bed, grab the assortment of snacks that Ross reserved just for you, just for this occasion and curl up and let bear of a man cuddle you until the pain wasn't as bad.

He had text you around an hour ago, asking how your day was going and you sent him a voice note on your break, he could tell by your voice you were in agony and a few moments later you received a voice note back, his voice filling your ears and making you smile.

"Tell your manager you're going home and before you say anything, you haven't had a single day off since you had the flu when I was on tour and I couldn't even help then... But I'm going to help now. I'll be there in 10 minutes to pick you up. Don't fight me on this love".

You loved when he was like this, stern and determined, it was one of the many times you looked forward to him being a dad, knowing he'd do anything that needed to be done to protect his child. And he was always that way with you, ensuring he did whatever he could to ensure you were happy.

You inform your manager you're feeling under the weather and they're perfectly understanding, informing you that you indeed haven't had a day off in ages so let you go home.

You left your work building, seeing the tall rugged man you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend resting against his car. You smiled upon seeing him, his own lips stretching into a wide smile, dimples popping. You walk up to him, immediately being greeted by his warm embrace, you groaned into his chest and he chuckled deeply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

"Let's get you to bed love" he says, not before you're leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, a silent thank you.

Upon arriving home he sweeps you up into his arm, demanding that you've been on your feet long enough. He carries you to your joint bedroom, seeing a pair of soft leggings and your favourite jumper of his already laid out for you. You quickly change (telling him you didn't need help, although he desperately wanted to be put to use) before crawling into your bed.

You turn on your favourite comfort film, some sappy romance comedy, getting comfortable in your confines of your warm bed, lying your head on his pillow just to smell him.

He's returning to you only a few minutes later, holding a tray with various snacks, your favourite chocolates, a hot water bottle, a brewed cup of camomile tea and painkillers. He moves so he's lying down next you, pulling you to lie on his chest, hooking an arm around you and placing the hot water bottle over your stomach. The warmth of both the bottle and him already makes you feel better and the way he's placing soft kisses to your hairline, smoothing his hands through your hair to relax you.

"You're too good to me" you mumble against his chest.

"Impossible" he says.

"Thank you" you say, thanking him for being the best boyfriend ever and for everything he does.

"Drink this love" he says pulling away from you slightly to pass you the tea. You drink it slowly and smile at him as it starts to make you feel better.

"Okay now back in my arms" he demands and you chuckle, happily complying.

He asks you small questions about your day, how you're feeling, if he can do anything for you and at one point all you can do hush him with your lips against his. It's a soft, small peck and rudely interrupted by an awful pain in your stomach, making you groan as you pull away from him.

His large hand drifts down to your stomach, smoothing against the skin and a gentle stroke.

He pouts down at you "my poor baby" he says and you pout back.

"I'd take all your pain if I could" he says and you nod, knowing it was the truth.

"Wouldn't want you to do that... Being here with me is enough" you say.

"I love you" you hear him say. You slowly start to fall asleep in his arms, the pain nearly completely disappeared now.

"I love you more" you mumble back before you feel yourself drift off to sleep. You wake up a short amount of time later, Ross having disappeared which makes you frown. Your stomach cramps have seemed to be much better now so you take yourself downstairs. You find himself slaving away by the cooker, making your favourite dish. You wrap your arms around his waist, lips pressing against his Tshirt clad back. He's quickly turning around in your arms, smiling down at you, leaning down to kiss you.

"Feel better?" He asks, his hair is now free from the confines of his hair band.

"Much better thank you" you nod.

"I have to say, you'd be the perfect husband. For better or for worse after all" you say, the two of you often joked (although you were both serious) about the idea of being married.

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod in reply.

"Well I'm sure we can make that a reality" he says and you smile widely at him.

"Yes please" you say, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, completely forgetting about your period pains.

"Yeah... Think I can make you my wife" he says, disappearing into the hallway to grab something from his coat before returning back to the room.

You think he's joking when he kneels down before you but you gasp as he reveals a velvet box, and you feel tears spring to your eyes as he opens it up, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

"Ross..." You trail off.

"Thought of doing this for ages... And not when you're on your period" he jokes making you chuckle "but I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted you to be my wife... Wanted nothing more than to be your husband and look after you forever. So will you marry me?" He asks and you simply nod at him, pulling him to his feet once he's slipped the ring on your finger.

He picks you up from your feet, your legs wrapping around his waist as he misses you.

"For better or for worse... Always love" he murmurs against your mouth.

Notes: I'm sorry I can't seem to write a one shot of Ross without him proposing haha. Clearly just have to have this man on his knees one way or another

[dominimoonbeam]

Holding Out for a Hero - 9

The Asher/Darlin/David bodyguard au continues!

Fic from the start is here on ao3. <3

tags: idiots in love, communication is a problem, past abusive relationship, getting together

Holding Out for a Hero - 9

David woke up slowly to the discomfort of a small bed on a tour bus. His bunk was dark even though it had to be day out by now, that thick accordion curtain holding back the light. He scrubbed a hand over his face, leaving it over his mouth when the previous night came back to him, pressing a smile into his palm.

Darlin had kissed him and so had Asher. Everything still had that edge of unknown to it that he was eager to smooth out but at least it was going the right way. They liked him and he liked them. He reeled on that for a minute, feeling like his whole world had changed even though, somehow, nothing really had. They were still on tour, still camped out in the bus, still friends. It was just…more.

He heard the tap of keys on a laptop and knew that Darlin was already up.

He hesitated in a way he never had to get out of bed before, wondering what parts of their relationship had changed and what parts hadn’t. He pushed that hesitation away with the privacy curtain and rolled out of his bunk, landing on the floor and stretching, squinting against the daylight in the bus.

Darlin was there at the dining table, laptop up and an assortment of binders and notebooks spread out. They were still typing, eyes on the screen, but they smiled when he looked at them. “Morning,” Darlin said.

David bit the inside of his lip to try not to grin back like an idiot. “Morning.” He clawed his hair back from his face, retying the messy knot. Darlin had one of his hoodies on, something they’d done a hundred times before but he’d never let himself dwell on why he liked the sight so much before.

They took a sip of their coffee and then put it down, to the side and closer to him on the table than where it had been before.

David took the handful of steps down the tour bus to the table, picking up the offered cup and turning it to drink from the same spot where they had.

Asher wasn’t there, not at the table or on the couch.

He glanced back at the bunks.

“I think he’s still asleep,” Darlin said to their laptop.

David nodded, taking another drink. Asher’s bunk curtain was closed. He put the mug back down and went to the kitchenette and the coffee machine. “Hey Ash,” he called over the hum of the moving vehicle. “Do you want pancakes for breakfast?”

Nothing.

Darlin stopped typing, gaze cutting up to look past David at the quiet bunks.

His heart squeezed. No way Asher was ignoring him… but maybe he was pretending to be asleep to avoid something awkward? He definitely didn’t want this to be awkward or for Asher to hide. He closed the distance and drew back the curtain, ready to face whatever it was head on.

The bunk was empty.

David blinked and then looked around like he might have somehow missed Asher in the limited space available. He even leaned to the side to look into the narrow bathroom and shower. “Where the hell is he?”

Darlin stared. “What?” They got up but then stood there, because how could they help search when there was nowhere to search?

“He’s not here,” David said, surprised by his own panic. How could Asher be gone? They were on a moving tour bus!

He reached into his own bunk to grab his phone, hitting Asher in his contacts and holding it up, half expecting to hear the ringing somewhere around him. He didn’t.

Asher answered.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Asher practically sang, music playing on his end of the call.

David clutched the phone tighter, somehow relieved and more confused than ever. “Where are you?”

“Huh? Oh! I’m up front with Jimmy.”

“You’re…” David turned, staring at the front of the bus, at the wall. Beyond it was a cab and a driver, he knew, but he couldn’t get to it from here.

“We made a pit stop for gas and I got some snacks. Jimmy’s up here on his own so I figured I’d keep him company.”

David took a few more steps toward the front of the bus. Asher was in the cab with the driver. He was okay. At least, David figured he was? Had he even met the driver? What the fuck was going on? “Asher…”

The bus honked twice and Asher laughed on the phone. “Do you need us to get you something?” he interrupted, his smile in his voice.

Us? “Ash,” David tried again, feeling like something was caught in his throat. What the fuck? “We should talk…”

“About what, boss?” Asher asked, his voice still so easy and smiley but with that sudden attention like maybe he’d messed up on a job.

On a job.

Boss.

David felt like Asher had just thrown a bucket of ice water on him.

“Nothing,” David said, grinding his teeth on the end of the word.

Asher’s breath caught a little, like he was going to laugh but it choked off. It sounded… hurt? “Okay,” he said suddenly, smiling again. “Let us know if you need us to pick you up anything!”

Us again.

David grunted and hung up. He pressed his eyes shut.

Darlin tugged his phone from his hand before he could throw it. “Where is he?”

David clenched his teeth and pointed at the front of the bus. “Turns out he got out at a gas stop and is hanging out with the driver.”

Darlin gaped. “That… The gas stop was only a few hours after we went to bed last night.”

David winced. That did not make him feel better. So, Asher hadn’t been able to sleep and had taken the first opportunity to run?

No, it wasn’t exactly running, was it? He was giving them space, just like he’d said.

Darlin pocketed David’s phone, touching his arm. “He’s okay up there. James is a good guy and it’s not like Asher couldn’t handle himself if he wasn’t.”

David shook his head. That wasn’t the point. “He thinks we’re back here fucking and he’s giving us space.”

Darlin blinked, a splash of red invading their cheeks but not stopping the ghost of a smile. “I mean… We could be…”

David shivered at the way those words sent a cascade of feelings and desires through his body and then a wave of guilt and regret from his heart. He wanted Darlin. He had wanted Darlin for what felt like his whole damn life. But the idea of hurting Asher made him feel sick.

Darlin must have read it on his face because their smirk fell and the squeezed his arm. “He thinks you’re rejecting him…” they realized. “That we’re rejected him,” they corrected uncomfortably because they hadn’t had nearly enough conversations about this yet.

David wanted to call him back but he hesitated, because the way he’d called him boss and talked to him had made something grow uneasy in his chest. Asher worked for him. Technically so did Darlin, but he and Darlin knew exactly where each other stood. Had Asher felt uncomfortable? Had he felt pressured in any way?

David sat down on the couch and dropped his head back against the cushion, thinking over every second of last night’s interactions.

Darlin sat down next to him, his phone still in their hand and the other on his thigh. “What did he say?”

David shook his head. “He’s acting… normal, I guess. Maybe…” Maybe he misunderstood? No. Asher had told him he liked him and it had been there in the way he kissed, but he’d also made it clear he wasn’t going to mess things up between him and Darlin, like he was an interloper—like he and Darlin hadn’t been at a standstill until he showed up.

Darlin gave his thigh a squeeze. “Okay. Well, we can’t do anything now unless you want to talk this out over the phone. We’re supposed to stop again tonight and then we’re staying at a hotel and doing some interviews before hitting one of the summer festivals.”

David nodded, trying to take all of that in. He couldn’t do anything about this until tonight at the earliest. He was so close and he couldn’t even really talk to him. He wanted to get this done, for better or worse. He wanted to talk it out and just know where they all stood. Most of all, he needed to make sure Asher understood where he stood, because Asher hadn’t been a test run at something or a matchmaker to help get him together with Darlin…even if technically yes, he had done that…

Darlin frowned. “I’m hanging onto your phone. You should make us breakfast and try not to take your frustration out on my pancakes.”

David rolled his eyes weakly but nodded and got up.

-

Darlin watched him grind his teeth and head over to the kitchenette.

They went back to their desk and put his phone down beside their laptop before picking up their own.

-We’re going to talk about this. They typed out and texted Asher.

The message was received almost immediately and the bubbles appeared as he started to reply.

And then they disappeared, no reply sent.

[hookedsworks]

HOOKEDHOBBIES KINKTOBER 2024

Day 16: Lactation/Cock Worship (kind of) (whatever)

Word count: 571

Masterpost

TW/CW: exactly what it says. I live in a magical world called kinktober where people can lactate without having kids. Get over it.

He had had a terrible, no good, awful, very bad day. All he was thinking about as he stalked through his door was his pretty girl, likely sitting on their couch right now, doomscrolling. He was thinking about her pretty, fat, soft, squishy tits and how they'd recently begun leaking sweet milk due to a medication side effect. He had been crazy about it since she'd discovered it the previous morning. Now, all he wanted was to suck on them til they ran dry, and maybe feel her pretty little palm wrap around his cock. There she was, sitting just as he had envisioned. She sat up and looked at him, a pout on her face. 

“It's getting worse,” she revealed, pulling her blanket down so he could see. She had leaked. Oh, he needed her bad. She was spilling out of her bra, pale skin overflowing the cups. He kicked his pants off immediately and collapsed on top of her. “Bad day?” 

“Really bad,” he mumbled. He rearranged himself so he could pull her bra down and just go after her. She gasped at his forwardness. 

“H-hang on,” 

“No. I need these,” 

“F-fine, just let me at least take my bra off,” he sat up then, groaning. “Don't throw a fit, it'll take just a second,” she admonished. She removed her top and bra then. They bounced when she pulled her bra off. He groaned again, needing her pretty pink nipples right in his mouth. They had pearly milk at the tips and he wanted it all. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked, almost whispering. 

“Yeah, they're really tight and heavy,” she said, lifting one. He could see blue veins popping, pressed against her skin. He couldn't help it. He lunged, wrapping his lips around her nipple and sucking hard. Nothing came out, so he sucked harder, trying to pull milk out of her. He repositioned, and then she moaned. He held her breast up with one hand, massaging and pulling at the one he wasn’t sucking on. A thin, sweet stream of milk began and he turned feral about it. Arousal pooled warm and heavy and syrupy in his abdomen. She whined, one hand wrapping around his head and the other snaking down to palm at his cock through his boxers. His thighs automatically spread for her, pushing his cock into her hand. 

“You like that?” She questioned, but it was rhetorical. She met his hand on her other breast, gathered the milk spilling on her fingers and pushed her wet hand into his boxers and around his cock. It was silken heaven, her hand slipping up and down so easy and smooth. He bucked hard, nearly biting down on her. She began teasing him, moving so slow and light he knew he wouldn't finish. He continued pulling milk out of her, sucking and moaning and drinking. It ran out too quickly, and he moved over fast. He attacked, biting down and sucking so hard she got dizzy. Milk burst into his mouth then and he bucked harder into her hand. He could not believe that he was actually able to experience this, to drink from her. He was getting full; she had made so much milk for him. She squeezed hard at the base of his cock then, and he just. Couldn't help himself. He came, pulsing and throbbing and whining as he drank the last of her milk. 

[villainsimpqueen]

Eternal Bloodlines

Adriana tepes/ Alucard x Male Dhampire reader

This fanfic is for 18+ Audience's due to it containing gorey themes and later on smut.

Also available on A03

chpater 8

Generals bickered back and forth, hissing and biting at each other's throats.

Rams bucking their heads

Godbrand thought as he sat at a table and chair watching and drinking blood from a cup way too small for his liking.

pigs blood.

It made him grimace with each sip he took, it was far too cold, too stale and it tasted like shit.

The king himself sat on his throne doing nothing as the generals all scabbled at each other and his two human forge masters stood at his side.

Godbrand never thought he would see a king as powerful and mighty as Dracula sulk, look so much more dead than he already was.

It wasn't long until his majesty's doors were being slammed open causing Godbrands eyes along with other generals human and vampire to follow the noise.

A woman, a countess, with blonde hair as white as snow itself wearing a dress that rivaled blood's darkest of hues.

The Queen of Styria, Camilla.

And it wasn't just great entrances she was good at, no within minutes she had the scabbling silence by her questions towards the king.

Women have balls. I'll give her that.

Godbrand watches how quickly she had infuriated Dracula and was even more impressed when she had returned to the council still alive after the King called her away for a talk. He watched her speak towards the other women of the council making alliances, how she talked to the men with disgust clear in her eyes and yet something he's seen in so many eyes before.

hunting, scheming.

She wasn't here for the king's goals, that was apparent to him, clear as water. She came to do her own goals and was simply using the council to her advantage. It wasn't a surprise to him when she had come to him after so many had left the room and sat across from him staring at him as she leaned her chin on the palm of her hands.

"And you must be Godbrand." She hummed out her voice trying to conceive the smoothness of honey but he had honey before, he's heard of a woman singing its thick soothing liquid to his own hellspawn to know that the Ice queen's voice was nothing like honey. It was like Tar.

"Lose the tone. I ain't as easy going as the others." He grunted out, setting the too small of a cup down which had been refilled with pigs blood. Gods he needed fresh warm human blood and soon if he was going to be able to keep up with the shit going on in the castle.

This is why I stay overseas.

Though it was amusing watching The Ice queen blink a few times her face contorting to the disgust she didn't bother hiding and into some form of impressive notion as she moved back to sit in her own chair more taller.

"My, the rumors about you say otherwise." She quipped and he chuckled.

"That's just it then ya? Rumors. None of these fuckers really know what i do besides their talk and the jokes I allow them to speak about." He stared at her taking in her appearance more, she had beauty he could easily allow her to have, but beauty didn't hide the fact that he could tell she was bat shit crazy. He watched as Camilla's lips tug into a smirk as she looked at him, a huntress looking at someone she wanted as prey but had only found another hunter instead.

"Well then, Do tell me who you are yourself, Godbrand." She asked him, finally seeming to want to know more than just rumors. He will allow it and he answered whatever questions that came to her mind.

They sat there in the enmity council room talking and drinking from those tiny cups for hours. She was scheming something, that he knew and what she wanted with him, he would find out soon enough he gathered, but for now he would entertain her and enjoy some friendly company. One he would turn down if she tried bringing him to her chambers. It wasnt because he doesnt want to fuck her, because he would, he wouldn't even have second thoughts. But he knew a woman as fucking crazy to quesion the King of vampires and live? Wasn't a woman he exactly wanted to have laying on a bed before him, with his face between her legs before his body is without getting to know exactly how crazy the bitch was.

That, and he could swear that she would have teeth down there too.

He had thought after this talk she would be bored of him and focus on the other generals and try getting them to partake in what she wants, but to his surprise after each meeting she would stay sat at the table as the room empty until it was just him and her and they would talk. Sometimes it was to go over everything and then make fun of the other generals or her further explaining her plans and scowling about how the others had their heads too far up their asses to see.

He sometimes would point out mistakes in her little schemes.

"Braila would be smart." He spoke up after listening to her squeal about some sort of organized attack.

"Braila?" She questioned looking from her parchment of maps to look at him. "That city has a river to the sea, yes?"

Godbrand nodded and when he saw her questioning he chuckled.

"River leads to the sea, Sea leads to escape and freedom. Take the river, block the sea and no one can come in." He spoke before pointing down on the map moving his claw towards the sea.

"Or out. It is how my men take small villages by surprise. We take the rivers and invade. Men stay back by the ships so when the livestock comes rushing to their small boats they are slaughtered while the others take the village. "

He watched as her eyes focused on the map a few moments of silence before her lips turned into a smirk as she let out a hum.

"Perhaps They should ask you to speak up more in those meetings. They'd be surprised to know how wise you are." She hummed out towards him, she had let go of the need to use that fake honey like tar tone with him.

"I rather not, let them think of me as they do now. Don't want the responsibility." He huffs out before crossing his arms

"So you want them to think of you as the arrogant big headed vikings who doesnt wash his ass and fucks everything that moves?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I have you know, i Bathe nightly, Us vikings clean ourselves, though i can't say the same for a few other generals.." He quipped back with a chuckle of his own and it had earned a few laughs from the Ice queen as well.

"Well you do certainly smell better than a few."

Talks like these were good, he enjoyed them and it took his mind off of other things.

Like the thoughts of how his only child, his cold son was doing. He wondered if you were faring well out there, how you were taking things to a different site than he was seeing. He wonders if you had grown some more with new experiences he couldn't teach you.

"You should bring it up at the next meeting, Help me instill the need to attack there." She told him, encouraged him but he shook his head.

"I will go against it." He started watching as she immediately questioned him in her eyes.

"They see me as unwise, young and stupid as if I am not already a few centuries old, yes maybe not as bold as them but still they see me as nothing but as a lad as they do you a lass. So I will act like a lad to make them feel smarter but you, do not act like a lass to them. be a woman who does not give. Make them use their heads, use the humans, Dracula takes their words over ours." He explained to her watching her scheming eyes take what he says in.

"I see, Have us the youngest besides The king's pets bicker and belittle another and get the pets to join in so we get what we want." She hummed out before grinning at him.

"For a man who thinks with just the head of his dick, I think they got the wrong head."

And he laughed.

"I still rather think with my dick."

Another meeting had brought news and more fighting against the generals and forgemasters.

Camilla brought up the need for Braila and he questioned it, making her explain everything to the generals.

"Any City built over running water is a place that we, As vampires, should approach carefully. '' Dracula responded for the first time during the entire war council meeting. Godbrand ignored the look that Camilla had simply glanced his way as he was more focused on the two Forgdemasters whose attention was captured in the subject.

"Running water? I've never heard of it affecting vampires." Issac spoke with his accent, a genuine curiosity in his voice as he spoke. Yet it was all working in their favor, just as he said it would.

"Death by running water hasn't happened in many centuries." Godbrand spoke loudly with his arms crossed towards the forgemaster. He said his words in a more boasting way knowing he had their eyes on him.

"Why not?" Hector asked, Their interests in vampire knowledge always continues to grow, had their lord simply given them the knowledge before having them as part of the council it wouldn't have been so easy to use their curiosity to lead discussions to topics they wanted.

"Look around! We moved into the middle of countries." He made sure to state it as if he was talking down to them, watching how Hector's eyes narrowed, unpleased.

"I'd been told that vampires couldn't cross running water." He stated in a way as to prove him wrong, that he did have some knowledge of the subject. Godbrand didnt care if Hector really had or if he was simply saying it to make himself look bigger than he was, or if it was to impress the other human in the room.

"I've been on boats, I've had baths." Godbrand said as if to make Hector look dumb, he shot a glance back at Camilla. You seemed to cover her mouth with the back of her hand in her other hand, one of those small chalice cups. He knew she was bringing back an amused smirk on her lips as he gave her a look that simply ment see?.

"When?" Isaac Questioned him and Godbrand couldn't help sending the human a glare, He was getting tired of the jokes about his hygiene, though he supposed that is what happens when you allow a room full of fucking vampire do nothing but talk shit about you and come up with many things.

One time a rumor went around about him fucking horses, he wasnt even sure how that happened since he hardly ever came to the meetings but it was some story that he didnt even know about himself.

He kept playing dumb, allowing Camilla the chance to speak up, to play along and insult him and talk down on him like the others do. To push herself up on a pedestal above him to get the other vampire's approval and the humans to side with her, and it was working. Soon the King rose shouting at them to silence them and Godbrand watched Camilla move to Hector to speak to him quietly.

The meeting continued with Issac questioning Brailas importance over Arges and continued about Arges being a better city. Without a second after Issac had finished it was Hector who spoke disagreeing with him. Camillas' eyes catched His and he watched as she smirked some as Hector was leaning more towards an attack on Braila.

Which brought the king's interest back to the subject taking in the words just like how Godbrand had observed him do over the meetings before Camilla joined.

Issac began to speak once more and he brought news forwards, news Godbrand wasn't expecting.

News of the King's missing son who he had injured badly.

News of Belmont being in the same place as Alucard.

"A Belmont? I thought they were extinct." Camilla questioned but Godbrand barely heard her with his thoughts creeping back.

Vampire hunters.

His mind immediately went towards his son, the thoughts of how you were doing, faring came back to him.

Were you alive?

He shook his head, You were his son. Named in the revenge of blood, He had watched you take down grown vampires centuries older than you filled with your rage and blood lust. Burn down villages as you ripped humans piece by piece.

He shouldn't have to worry about a vampire hunter taking your life.

But he did.

You were his only son.

"No. We Believe our Lord's son Alucard and Belmont may have worked together to repel our forces at Gresit." Isaac informed not only Camilla but to the entire council.

By the gods, Boy don't be involved

" If there is a Belmont left alive then should we not observe the ancestral Belmont home?" Camilla questioned snapping at the council with her question.

Godbrand didn't like his choices of sending you to travel, he hadn't expected for a vampire hunter to be alive since their disappearance so many years ago. He didn't have a way to hear from you and he wouldn't dare bring up your existence to a council of vampires.

"Why." He spoke, mostly towards himself lost in his thoughts. Surely you wouldn't be near a vampire hunter, you wouldn't be anywhere near the king's son. That was impossible...Yet he had once thought fathering a hellspawn would be impossible. A hellspawn that was born wrong surviving was impossible, That hellspawn being able to swim in running water was impossible.

You tended to have a trend at doing things he had thought was impossible.

" Perhaps on the general notion that the Belmont hunted the likes of us for fucking centuries and if there is one left alive then it may have access to the trove of weapons and magical materials talked of across generations but never found which they used to hunt us through fucking centuries." Camilla snapped suddenly in front of him, her hand coming to his chest to point a claw into his chest as she snarled at him. Perhaps she saw the confusion or daze of lost thoughts in his eyes because she lightened the pressure on his chest and moved her claw away.

Her tone slightly softened as she must've seen that he wasn't playing along at playing the idiot that something had been on his mind that took him from the conversation.

"Am i making myself clear now?" She spoke before pulling from him using his genuine confusion to her advantage addressing the king.

"This is your war council my lord?"

It caused the kind to stand glaring down at all of them, as if daring another to speak. His eyes glowing that dark blood red.

"If you truly fear my son's presence and that of a lowly human, have them killed." Dracula snapped with a wave of his hand before he started to head away.

"I've had enough of children bickering."

The council spoke bickering as he left but Godbrands eyes could not leave the stairs of the throne room where Dracula had left.

have them killed?

Has his own son been killed?

A bitter taste formed on his tongue, moving towards his fangs as he snarled biting his licks back exposing them.

The great king who he had respected..Whose solution about his only child was to kill him for some war?

The son that He and His human wife struggled for years to have?

Was the boy a novelty then? A toy for his wife to have something to tend to besides him?

Was giving the half bred son the title, Prince of vampires, simply something to flatter his human wife?

Perhaps his anger had grown more than he had thought as he stormed out of the throne room and into one of the many halls of the castle. Godbrand had sent his own son to travel, away from the war, in some way to honor his mother and see her world before the King had destroyed it. To protect him in the only way he knew how, and The king had no quells in murdering his own son for a war over a human pet wife?

It was dishonor, Not to his own fucking son but to the woman who spent years trying over and over again to give him a hellspawn of his own.

A father is to protect his fucking kin not kill them.

How could someone as ancient and wise as the Old man be so completely stupid? How could He? Godbrand, know that more than the king?

Godbrand heard the clicking of heels and he knew who it was, but his own rage didn't care for his words.

"Im not in the mood to try to fuck you Camilla i have my own shit right now." He snarled as he stormed through the halls, He didn't get too far before he was slammed into the ground, her weight on his back as he snarled more.

"I wouldnt fuck you if you were the last thing alive." Her icey words chilled over his backside.

"Explain why you stormed off."

Godbrand snarled, the crazy bitch had pinned his arms to his side as well so moving wasn't an option, and he was a vampire that was gifted with ability to turn into mist or shape shift either so all he could do is lay there face first into the floor and snarl like a rabid dog.

"Kill the son His Wife had worked so hard to fucking have, Thats what he wanted." Godbrand snarled.

"Well…The Child was a half breed."

Half breed.

Like you.

Half breed.

" I don't see how that would anger you…"

"Cause you dont know how fucking hard it is for a woman to fucking birth a living son like that!" Godbrand snapped squirming underneath her.

"You dont fucking know how many tries ir takes to even get past a few months. How many wrong borns a woman goes through just to get a son born right and alive."

He was seething,

His mind moved back to the many miscarriages and wrong births of his own offspring that his little mother tried so hard to birth.

He wondered how many the king's human wife had to see, had to push out, had screamed and cried for, and The king waved his hand uncaringly with the words kill them.

How those words in his mind changed to

Kill you.

"And you do?" Her words cold as winter snow falling came down, there was curiosity at her tone. Godbrand felt himself stiffen as a corpse before snarling swears in his motherland's language quietly.

"...You do." Her words changed and before he knew it he was on his back with her straddling her hips staring down at him claws on his shoulders raking over them.

"Godbrand…Do you have a half breed bastard?" She questioned him, her eyes unmoving from his own. He snarled, moving his arms to shove her off of him.

"He's not a bastard. He is my son." Godbrand snarled at her baring his fangs.

"And hes more of a vampire than half of those fuckers in there will ever be."

Camilla to her grace was able to land on her feet pushing herself to stand tall as she looked down at the man on the floor. She could see so many things move through his eyes and it intrigued her.

"Tell me about him, your son." She demanded him softly and watched as his eyes moved to the hall behind her.

"Let us go for a walk on the grounds, yes?"

And it delighted her to watch him push himself off the ground and follow her away from the castle to the surrounding woods walking on a path paved by livestocks carts over the years. She listened to what he had to say and he told her everything.

"The last wrong born before my son, I went to my little mother, she always sulked in her furrs after a wrong birth. It was the first time I ever went and saw her after a wrong birth." Godbran explains listening to the bristled sound Camilla let out between her lips.

"It's tradition." He started glancing over at her, catching her eyes.

"We let the women grieve for what could have been alone, So that they may hear the mother goddesses whisper their advice and Condolences. It's disrespectful for a man to stay with a woman during such things. Only women are allowed to enter a weeping mothers hut and soothe her." He watched as Camilla's eyes ever so slightly softened.

"So why did you break your own tradition?" She asked curtly and Godbrand looked away and to the moonlit trails in front of them.

"I was going to tell her that I had prepared a ship for her to leave."

"You were letting her go?" Camilla turned towards him, stopping in their midnight stroll and He refused to turn to look at her.

"She tried to bear a child for nearly ten years, Camilla. She mourned every single one of them as if they were more than just her freedom. " He spoke softly, crossing his arms.

"Each time she blamed herself.

'I wasn't eating enough, forgive me, I'll eat more next time.'

'I slept the wrong way, I will sleep differently next time.'

'I moved too little, I will move more next time.'

'I moved too much, I will move slower next time.'

'I washed in the river, I will wash in the sea.'

Every time a wrong was born she took the blame. Blaming herself as if the real issue wasn't me." He turned to look at her finally.

"I went into her hut, and when she saw me she spoke of how i came around her sooner this time, and she told me she will do better,..…I told her her womb was not the wronging in all the wrong borns, it was my dead seed that killed them from the very start…and told her that i had a ship ready for her, that she would be safely taken to lands where vampires were not as frequent and she still had a fair face enough to find a husband.." Godbrand shook his head at the memories.

"She refused."

"She refused?" Camilla asked with a tilt of her head, her eyes piercing his own.

"She refused. She got angry at me actually, stormed to me and demanded I strip from my clothes and fill her once again. She had looked into my eyes with the eyes of a predator unlike when I had found her huddled up like some rabbit, fearful and weak. She then said;

'I will bear you a son, Stronger than any man in your bloodline, and he will either bathe in red darker than the blood of the people slaughtered in my village, or he will bathe in gold brighter than the sun which you will never see.'

And shortly after that night her womb was full again with my son. She had me fuck her every night she said it was for his soul to be stronger than the others. When her waters broke i waited by her huts door, The nursing women refused me to enter..I had wanted to see him born..But in the end He was born wrong like all the others. I heard her screams before I heard the head healing woman head towards the huts door. She screamed and cried like all the times before but this time in a language I didn't know, her homeland I suppose. I took my boy to the cliffs like I did with all the others for the sea to take.

I was so Angry Camilla, She tried so hard and once again it was a bloody wrong born…But before i could drop him the winds settled and it was like the sea calmed and i heard him…My son fighting to live and when i cut the cord around his neck from his own wrong birthing he screamed louder than anything i had ever heard before..My son stronger than the other wrong borns, Almost seemed like he wasn't ever born wrong…"

Godbrand clenched his hands as he remembered your birth, and he continued telling Camilla everything about you. How you grew rapidly, how the sun never affected you.

"He can go into running water, and leave it with barely a rash."

Camilla's eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"Your half breed son can move through running water? Not even Dracula's son has such abilities."

Godbrand nodded as he began to walk down the trails with her once more.

"Aye, I've seen him do it many times. His mother used to wash clothes in the river, he would play by her side. I've seen him fly overboard on one of the ships during a territory battle, he climbed back up the side with a fury, his skin not even Blisters."

"Is that why you kept him hidden?" Camilla's words hit his ears making him glance over at her again.

"No, I kept him hidden because he would be looked down upon, the others would treat him less than the man i raised him to be…At first.." Godbrand steeled his eyes onto the path and he continued to walk.

"At first?" The Vampiresses questioned him, following his lead through the wind blowing trees.

"...He's a Crusnik, Camilla…" Godbrand breathed out before stopping once more.

"He's eaten another…"

"Yes…"

"When..?"

Godbrand looked at her, his face contorting in…was it? Anger? Sadness?

"The night his mother was taken from him. A neighboring clan member took her life in front of him. Before I could even react I watched my son tear through him and twelve other grown men over centuries of his own age. My clan and I watched as he devoured each one of their blood before tearing through them with an ace before they moved to fight against the other clan themselves for angering my son.."

The blade of your Ax tore through limbs causing rotting blood to splatter your face. It was foul as the smell of the rotting corpse of the night creature as you shoved its slicing body away from you, splitting it entirely as you moved to the next.

"You wouldn't have believed it unless you saw it with your own two eyes."

Flames shot from your side scratching the dirt and cracked cobblestone walkways. A whip cracking to your left and you could hear the wishful gliding of a magic sword moving through the air before slicing amongst flesh.

They were inexperienced to hell and back, and yet they all agreed to stay here.

"It's so much more different than bloodlust Camilla…Is power, raw uncontrollable power."

Villagers screamed as they tried running from the night creatures, forcing you to watch your own blade carefully as you swung it through body masses of tendons and flesh. You felt someone stumble into your side and you hissed at them to back away, you felt a hand slide across your back and the wailing on an infant.

"So yes, I kept my son hidden, I focused on him training that power and controlling it himself."

The damn fools were piling behind you and the other three, covering themselves between buildings with nowhere to go.

Only you four in front of them keeping the Demons away from tearing into their flesh. You heard shouting from your right where Sypha was speaking about something. You couldn't focus over the smell of spilling blood rotten and fresh over taking your senses.

You faintly felt a stinging from your chest as you moved a hand across it to feel the gaping wound sliced into it from a night creature's claw.

"How could I bring my only blood, my only son, near a den of Vampires that would only see him as a threat?"

Starving.

You were starving.

When was the last time you ate?

Three weeks ago now? Or was it four?

animal blood wasn't cutting it.

You needed real blood.

"You think they would have let him be alive if they knew he could eat more than just livestock, Camilla?"

Yet as you focused back on the creeping creatures that neared you and your small group. You could feel their eyes on you.

Alucard's, Trevor's more than anything as if they were waiting for you to turn around and attack the livestock that had run into a corner believing that you would protect them.

"...No..They would have staked him to a pillar faster than the church with a witch." Camilla answered him.

"Aye…So I kept him away from the meetings. I sent him to travel to explore and learn more about himself, about what he is…And if something were to happen to me, I'd die knowing that my son is more of a Vampire than any one of those bastards back there."

If Sypha had not stated that you all were going to help them rid of the night creatures that hunted on this little village you wouldn't have bothered helping them. You wouldn't have probably even been near this little village. Perhaps you would have been in a city.

"...If something ever did happen to you, Godbrand, I'd look after your son. I'd treat him as if he was one of my own sisters."

"...I take it that's a lot coming from you?"

Regardless of the burning sensation you felt in your teeth to tear through the nearest livestock near you, you gripped your ax and lunged forwards towards a demon.

Your cold lifeless blood pumping through your limbs as you ripped the blade into a night creature's shoulder, getting it lodged into the bone as you yanked it closer to you.

Your blood, Teeth, and primal instincts know more than them.

It didn't have to be human for you to feed.

"You don't have to take it as anything, Just know you have my word Godbrand."

chp 9

[annoyed-galaxy]

Fictober 2024 ~ 26

"you were my first"

Fanfiction: DA2 First off, I am not transgender (gender is stupid graaaah I don't know if that makes me nonbinary ahhhhhhh whatever), so I do not know if this a good representation of transness. When thinking about Seth, he came out as trans and I've been trying to figure out how that works in a world like this. So, hopefully, at the very least, this isn't offensive to my trans friends. I've many trans fem friends, but have really only met one trans masc, so it's kind of hard to figure out what that life is like. But with my own thoughts of gender, I feel like I can make something that isn't, offensive at the very least. I understand gender identity is different for everyone. I am merely hoping that how I represents Seth's is not insulting or offensive to others who may be struggling with gender identity. Can also be found on Ao3

Anders watched as Seth mix the herbs for his nightly tea in a mortar and pestle. The firelight gleamed off his bare skin and Anders couldn’t help but admire the man from the bed. Anders caught a glimpse of the scars running across his chest as Seth turned and grabbed his cup he used. He was so focused on preparing his tea that he didn’t realize Anders was staring. 

Seth wrapped the crushed up herbs in a thin mesh and poured water into his cup. Then he dipped the wrapped mesh in the water and let is stew. Seth cleaned up the rest of his materials, putting them back in the box they came neatly arranged in and put it in his desk. He finally looked over at the bed and saw Anders looking with a smile on his face. Seth put a hand on his hip and smiled in return.

“Appreciate the view?” he asked. 

Anders chuckled. “Very much so.” Anders moved to the end of the bed as Seth moved towards him. Seth leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Most of the time it was Anders leaning down for a kiss, being the taller one. Once Seth pulled away and went back to check on his tea, Anders pushed his brows together in thought. “I’ve been curious…When did you know?” he asked. He felt the question was invasive, but they had been together for months now and Seth had seemed nervous to talk about it during their first night. Thankfully, Anders had no complaints and Seth had expressed how much that meant to him. 

Seth sighed and looked up in thought. “I’ve always known, I think.” He looked down at the tea. “I was fifteen when I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt…itchy. Felt like my chest was too heavy, my face too round and smooth, my voice too high. Some nights, it drove me insane.” Seth took out the mesh and placed it on a plate. Then he brought the cup to his lips and drank. “There were nights where I would lay in bed, just uncomfortable in my own skin.” 

He walked over to Anders and sat down next to him. “It didn’t help that I was semi-bullied by some brats.” Seth’s lips turned into a sad smile. “I was always the weird girl that lived on the outskirts of villages. But when we moved to Lothering and it became our home for the longest time, the bullying started to get to me. It wasn’t because they called me or my family weird.” Seth looked into his tea. “It was always the ‘girl’ part. I got mad at them because that’s not what I was. Their constant pestering got to me so bad that I snapped at my mother often times when she called me her sweet little girl.” Seth took another drink. “That wasn’t me. I wanted to be like my father. When my brother started to grow up and defend me and my sister, I wanted to be like him. Maker, he was only six at the time, but already looked just like a boy.” 

Seth took a long drink from his tea before continuing. “I went to my dad and told him I wanted to be like him. Not in terms of magic, but in terms of who he was. My dad was very understanding and asked what I wanted to be called but I hadn’t thought of a name yet. I just shortened my old one. When I finally found out I wanted to be called Seth, we went to my mother and I came clean. She was a little sad, but supported me regardless. Eventually, she was overwhelmed to have another son. She helped cut my hair to a length that I liked it. It always grew so fast and long. Then my dad helped me with binding. Eventually, Carver and Bethany learned that their sister was now their brother and accepted me. My father looked for stuff that would help like this tea. Then around my eighteenth birthday, my dad took me to a place deep in the woods where another apostate lived. She helped with this.” He motioned to his chest. “She was able to heal me up afterwards, but the cuts were so brutal the scars didn’t heal.” He scoffed. “Magic can do a lot, but a wound too deep will still scar no matter how much healing magic you put into it.” 

Anders nodded. He was very familiar with the limitations of healing magic. It was powerful, but even that type of magic came with its downsides. “What happened to those bullies once you transitioned?” 

Seth let out a laugh. “They were scared shitless of me then. The little girl who got angry at them was now a man who looked nothing like she used to. Needless to say, they stopped picking on me and my family.” Seth finished his tea and stood up to put it back on the tray. 

Anders crossed his legs then, pried again. “Were you ever with someone else?” 

Seth raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to process the question, then he shook his head. “Being in a family full of apostates, you kinda had to be ready to pick up and move at a moment’s notice.” Seth cleaned out his tea cup and put the tray on the far end of his desk and moved to sit back next to Anders. “That and I was dealing with my body that I just didn’t feel comfortable being with someone else. Then we fled the Blight and I ended up here.”

Anders rose his eyebrows in surprise. “So…were you with no one until me?” 

Seth nodded. “You were my first.” Then he smiled. “If I’m lucky, you’ll be my last.” 

Anders’s heart both leapt and shattered. He had a few lovers in his past life, but for similar reasons to Seth, didn’t dedicate his entire self to them. Karl was the one exception and well…that ended poorly. To be Seth’s first love, Anders was mortified. If he ruined Seth’s life with his plans, would Seth ever be able to recover once Anders was gone? 

“Why do you look like that?” Seth asked, putting a hand to Anders’s face. 

He didn’t realize he had started to tear up. 

Anders brushed it off with a chuckle. “Just, lots of expectations I guess.” 

Seth chortled. “Oh don’t worry. It’s not like I read romance novels and have any expectations.” He smiled. “I think this is a good first relationship. I hope it doesn’t end.” 

Anders screamed inside his mind. His face merely dropped on the outside. “If it does, it will never be because of you.” He looked away. “Seth, maybe you shouldn’t-“

“Ah ah.” Seth cut Anders off, putting a finger against his lips. “We’re not doing this again. I love you, Anders. I don’t care how many times you say you don’t deserve me or I should find someone else because you’ll break my heart or something, just shut up. I love you. Nothing will change that.” 

How can you be sure about that, Anders thought to himself. He managed a sad smile and just nodded. “Okay.” 

Seth smiled then moved to lay down on the bed, opening his arms up to Anders. “Now come here.” Anders’s worries and guilt washed away as he snuggled close to Seth, the blankets covering them. Their breaths synced and Anders rested his head under Seth’s chin. He absentmindedly traced the scars on Seth’s chest until sleep took them both.

Wrapped in the warm embrace of his lover, Anders was at peace. 

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 11

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: Let us begin.

You were acting completely on instincts when you turned Marilyn and stole her away to your private quarters. She needed protecting. That’s what you kept telling yourself anyway. It was far from the truth. Not only had she nearly murdered Fern, but she drugged Larissa beyond belief. No one but Marilyn knew what happened in that cellar. 

You lean forward onto the bedside, resting your head against your folded arms and you watch as her body mended itself. You gently taker her hand, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. You knew the vampirism was taking over, making her body more powerful. Whatever happened to her down in that cellar seemed to have crushed her with a force you couldn’t comprehend, but the new abilities you had bestowed upon her were reversing this process. 

If she chose to continue her path of death and destruction, you had given her immensely powerful tools to do so. You had lay in a similar position over a century ago, recovering in a bed with an experienced vampire at your side. You escaped a life of poverty and death exchanged for immortality and loneliness. 

As your eyes opened, there she was. Her eyes were cold and uncaring and her face filled with indifference. You remembered her walking the streets of London at night, chin held high as she sideyed you before continuing to walk past. Each time you saw her, she had a new pretty girl hanging on her arm. She seemed glamorous then and now that she stood at your bedside, you assumed she must have been some type of royalty. 

“Come here, darling.” Clothed in a black dress with long dark hair draping over her shoulders, the vampire stood over you, ushering you to sit up. Her voice was as smooth as silk with an accent you couldn’t place. She clearly wasn’t from London. Soft fingers tilted your head upwards, lifting your gaze to meet hers, “It’s time for you to eat.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Regardless of her desire for you to look at her, your eyes wandered around the room, taking in your environment. The room was dimly lit by candlelight and the primary colors decorating the walls were shades of crimson and black. The plethora of wall decor, fine furniture, and the quality of bedding emphasized this was a woman of great wealth. 

“Here. Take a drink.” Her voice calls you back. Blinking quickly, you turn your eyes back to the woman and catch sight of the gold goblet now being held out to you. Her fingers moved from your face, moving down to grasp your hand and guiding you to take hold of the goblet yourself, “The next few days will be... difficult. I plan on helping you through this transition.”

“What- what transition?”

“Oh, darling... You are one of us. You are a vampire now.”

Marilyn’s hand squeezed your own, drawing your head up. You could see her looking at you through her eyelashes, those wonderful brown eyes making a partial appearance. Her expression shifted from content slumber to a disheartening wince in mere seconds. She must be getting thirsty. You draw yourself up from your chair, coming to lean over the side of the bed, “How are you feeling?”

Marilyn’s eyes squeezed shut, her head rolling back against the pillow. You couldn’t tell if her discomfort was due to a growing hunger or due to the mending of bones and repairing of organs. Lifting her from under her arms, you helped her sit up in bed. Your hands found her cheeks, offering her guidance, “You need to eat. It will make you feel better.”

Just as your mentor did for you, you presented Marilyn with a goblet of blood. Even if the discomfort was due to pain rather than hunger, a meal would help the healing process. With your spare hand, you guide Marilyn’s hand to the goblet, pressuring her to hold it on her own. Marilyn’s eyes cracked open, recognizing she was holding a cup to drink from and raised it to her lips with now questions. 

From the moment the blood touched her lips, you would have thought a bolt of lightning had coursed through her body. Her eyes widened and she downed the remaining blood in seconds. When it was gone, she lowered the glass, her eyes crazed as she was hungry for more. You could see the mixture of desire and confusion on the redhead’s face. She wanted more, yet she couldn’t understand why she was craving blood, “Rowan… What-what’s happening?”

“Marilyn… I thought I was going to lose you… I-” You take the cup from her hands, placing it on the nightstand. You had paused to find the right words and gather her hands in yours, “You are a vampire now… I turned you.”

Her eyes narrowed in on you, almost like she didn’t want to believe what you had just told her. Marilyn was awash with conflicted emotions and you watched as they flashed through her eyes. She rose up out of bed, lunging at you, screaming ‘How could you?’ over and over again. 

Her hands grasped at the base of your neck as you both went tumbling to the floor. On the way down, your head made contact with the corner of your dresser, causing your ears to ring for a moment. Ignoring the throbbing in your skull, you sought to protect yourself, scrambling for dominance as the fall to the floor disoriented her. Grasping at her hands, you twist out from under her, pinning her to the floor instead. 

You could feel warmth spreading where you hit your head. A small trickle of blood ran onto your forehead as you listened to Marilyn continue her verbal rampage, “You turned me into a freak! I can’t be a bloodsucking killer! Just kill me! Just-”

“You were already a monster!” You screamed over her, causing her to go silent. You were digging your nails into her wrists, knowing full well you would be leaving a mark. The blood from your wound collected on your brow and dripped down to Marilyn’s cheek. She still trashed under you, desperate to free herself, “Marilyn! Stop!”

She slipped her knee through your legs and knocked you off balance once more. Marilyn was fast, but you were faster. She had attempted to crawl away, but you grasped her ankle, pulling you back to you. You moved to straddle her back, but she moved out from under you quicker than anticipated. Her hand grasped at your wrist, twisting until your arm was bent behind yourself and she pinned you to the ground by sitting on your back, “You were my friend. How could you do this to me, Rowan..? Answer me!”

“Because I love you!” The words flowed from your mouth quicker than you could stop them. Honesty had gotten the better of you and you were left to backtrack your words, “I just- I wanted to protect you... You were about to die. If you would have seen yourself in that hospital bed... I can’t live- I couldn’t let you die like that.”

“You-” Her grasp on you loosened as she slid off you and leaned against the side of the bed. You couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind. With her pre-existing illnesses, near death experiences, internalized bigotry, and the new urges brought on with vampirism, you weren’t surprised that her emotions were shifting so quickly, “You should have just let me die...” 

Before her first tear could fall, you scramble to her side, hands finding her cheeks, “No, no, no. Don’t say that. Please don’t cry.”

“I-I-I k-keep hur-hurting p-people.” Marilyn began to sob, each of her words broken apart as she tried to find her breath. Her arms warped around your neck as she pushed her way into your lap. Immediately, you drew her to you offering her the tightest of hugs as an attempt to calm her down enough to have a discussion. 

------

Marilyn was in desperate need of physical contact. She had refused to go anywhere or do anything without you next to her. Regardless of what she had done to you and the others you loved, it felt wonderful to be needed and wanted by someone. 

You rubbed her back as she consumed more blood. Technically, you were giving her most of your rations for the week, but it was better than taking her out in the open to hunt where she could be seen. Marilyn was seated in a barstool next to you, her head leaned against your chest, sipping her blood through a straw. 

“I’ll take you hunting in a few days... Until then you can just have my food...” You brought your hand up to her hair, gently stroking your fingers through her red locks. This was one of those moments that reminded you of how gentle and sweet Marilyn could be. If this is what Fern meant when she talked about moments of domestic bliss when she was with Larissa, then maybe you were more of a relationship person than you anticipated. 

“Rowan...” Her voice came gently, her tone sounding like she was asking a question. 

“Hmm?” You twisted one of the locks around your index and middle finger, unwound it, and began the process again on a new lock of hair. Her head tilted upwards, her chin resting between your breasts. You began running your nails over her scalp, earning a hum of appreciation from the woman beneath you. 

“Mmm... Thank you for being my best friend.”

Friend zoned. Is that what this was? After everything that you had been through together, you would have imagined that you would have meant a lot more to you than a best friend. The intimacy of all the hugs, tender words, and intense trust you had been building felt like so much more than friendship. 

How could you make her see you as so much more?

-------

Larissa asked you over to talk about Fern and her visions. You were attempting to stay present in the conversation, but the thought of Marilyn leaving your rooms was filling you with dread. She promised to stay put, but then again, she had broken her promises many times before. You knew the shapeshifter was being driven absolutely mad by the sleepwalking. Larissa hadn’t truly slept in days and you knew the wine was just going to make her even more tired. 

“I don’t know what to do with her, Rowan. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Larissa sat across from you in the living room, glass of blood wine in hand. You had put Fern to bed and stayed up to formulate a plan. Something had to give.

“Try being, Fern. She is losing her mind.” You shot back. It wasn’t a dig at Larissa, it was just the truth. Knowing your best friend, she felt incredibly guilty for impacting Larissa and yourself with the uncontrollable sleepwalking. 

“I love her too much to let anything happen to her. We need to figure out why this is happening.” Larissa leaned forward in her chair, setting the glass of wine on the coffee table before covering her face with her hands. 

“Perhaps we let her go to the lake, let the visions play out.” You offered, knowing it was a lazy but reasonable course of action. 

“I’m going to go check on her. We will figure this out after everyone gets a good night’s sleep.” Larissa drained the remainder of her wine, eyes glancing at the back bedroom where Fern slept before turning back to you, “Do you think you could watch her in the evenings on occasion? I need sleep...” 

You hesitated for a moment, pondering how you would have to leave Marilyn alone for extended periods. It was selfish of you. You wanted to be home with her instead, but you abandoned Fern and Larissa since the events in the cellar. Coming to their home tonight was the first time you had seen them in a week. If you were going to protect Marilyn and your friends whilst keeping them separate, your life was about to get a lot more challenging. 

Link to Chapter 12